


For It Was I Who Chose To Start

by bucketmouse



Series: For It Was I Who Chose To Start [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, America+Japan friendship, Ballet, Dysfunctional Family, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Past Character Death, Too many popculture references, Underage Drinking, google translate russian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 86,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1891359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucketmouse/pseuds/bucketmouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What starts off as a purely physical crush on the part of Alfred Kirkland towards the new gym teacher, Mister Braginsky, quickly spirals out of control and into something much more. Can Alfred's best friend Kiku Honda keep him from falling in too deep, or will the problems Alfred isn't willing to notice or admit end up weighing them down... for that matter, what is it that Mister Braginsky is hiding, anyway? </p><p>Originally written as a fill on the Hetalia Kinkmeme on Livejournal back in 2011 asking for Teacher/Student RusAme. Like the character's lives, the fic kind of spiralled out of control. Minor editing has been done as I repost, and hopefully finish here. I'll try to clarify in the notes if any chapter includes heavy editing, and will update characters, relationships, and tags as the chapters that include more are added.</p><p>Main Pairing in this fic is Russia/America, any other pairings are side pairings.  Note: Hellah age difference. As in at the start America is 16 and Russia is 39.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "I'm gonna fuck our gym teacher."

"I'm gonna fuck our gym teacher." 

Kiku Honda almost dropped the tater-tot he was holding at the declaration from his best friend, quickly looking around to see if anyone heard said declaration. If it was heard, it was swiftly dismissed, because no one was staring any more than usual. 

"You mean -- I am trying to think of a word that 'fuck' means that is not intercourse and can be used in that last sentence." Kiku said, busying himself with the cafeteria lunch and checking to see where Alfred was looking. Sure enough, it was at their new gym teacher, the giant Russian guy. He'd only started last week and rumors were already circulating that he used to me a member of the KGB, or of the Gestapo ("Gestapo wasn't Russian." Kiku had tried to correct, but it did no good) or any number of other crazy rumors that popped up in a suburban neighborhood where the teenage population was too old to find the wonder in abandoned lots filled with Scotch Broom and ladybugs, but too young to have any mobility to see the rest of the world to make the comforts of home comforting instead of smothering.

"I mean," Alfred was ignoring his lunch, watching Mr. Braginsky talking with the lunch lady (arguing about _something_ , impossible to hear at this range with general lunch room cacophony, but he looked annoyed and so did she) "I _mean_ I used to think I was just _kinda_ gay, a little bit homosexual, but I seriously want him to pin me to a locker and fuck me into a six on the Kinsey oh my god look at his arms he could lift a _truck_." 

Kiku was pretty sure he'd only seen the expression Alfred made while eyeing said arms in certain internet memes involving Team Fortress 2 characters. ... To Alfred's credit he was right, Mr. Braginsky was wearing a t-shirt that was just ill-fitting enough on the tight side to show that he could probably lift a truck, but Kiku wasn't sure how impressive that was - he spotted Alfred in weightlifting and knew the absurd numbers the other boy could reach. Maybe that was part of the appeal, though. Alfred's taste in other guys only ever extended to other jocks, he never looked twice at the effeminate boys in the glee or drama clubs. Even then _most_ of the trysts were 'perfectly heterosexual' mutual masturbation and the occasional drunken necking. 

Kiku never partook (he stayed home and played video games rather than being Alfred's "Plus One" to those parties), but as Alfred's best friend he always got an earful in vivid detail later whether he wanted it or not. Usually over video games. He maintained that the only reason Alfred had a higher score on Mario Kart was because he waited until the exact right moment to get to the part of the story that went 'And then he shoved his hands down my pants and _it was awesome!_ ', which always took Kiku by surprise and made him screw up, letting Alfred take the lead. 

"Regardless of his truck-lifting abilities, please tell me that in spite of your earlier comment this is going to remain one of your creepily detailed masturbation fantasies and never cross from Fantasia into our world." Kiku asked, even though he already knew the answer that was coming.

"I'm afraid not, my friend." Alfred said, confirming the Japanese boy's worst fears. "I'm gonna ride that luck dragon into reality as if it was the climax of some highly inaccurate movie adaptation. Do you think he likes guys with glasses?"

"I think you're sixteen and that's statutory rape."

"There is nothing rapey about this, I want an assfuckingly gay experience with a hot older man."

"You are _sixteen_ and by law unable to give proper consent to any kind of sexual activity with someone over three years your senior which he most certainly is. Either he'd be skeeved out by the idea of fucking a minor or he wouldn't be which makes him a sex offender waiting to happen and someone you don't want to sleep with."

"... What if age of consent is different in Russia I mean then he'd be raised to think it's okay-"

"I don't think you listen to the words coming out of your mouth sometimes."

 

At sixteen, Alfred was in the eleventh grade attending a small town high school and was every inch the good all-American boy stereotype, like he just stepped out of some fifties magazine. Blond haired, blue eyed, the star of every sports team, the teenage heart throb, yet avoiding the dumb jock stereotype by being highly competitive in math and taking Running Start physics classes with Kiku at the local university. Kiku attributed his sudden craving for Physical Education Teacher due to the fact that Alfred, despite being handsome and technically popular, had gone almost a year without a date. 

Dating the popular girls never ended up well, they were put off by his nerdy hobbies and lack of social graces. On the other hand, dating a fellow geek also went poorly. The last quiet but sweet girl who was just as much into video games as he was got bullied so badly for daring to date "above her social standing" that she had to transfer schools. That was the last time Alfred had dated, obsessed with the idea that it was one hundred percent his fault for that outcome. Kiku thought of him as one of the weirder breeds of narcissist: as obsessed with his flaws as he was with his triumphs. 

Since then it was strictly exploration of his bisexuality with other bicurious-and-too-closeted-to-ever-admit-it guys. He'd made-out with Kiku too, once, but Alfred deemed it 'too weird' after about a minute and a half (they had known each other since preschool, and were more like brothers sometimes then friends) and Kiku figured that as impressive as Alfred's oral techniques were, he was firmly on the heterosexual side of the fence if he was even in the sexuality-based yard and not enjoying the air-conditioned comforts of the asexuality hut that had endless Mario Kart to focus on. 

Which was just fine, because Alfred already had enough sexuality for ten people. Kiku blamed it on his highly religious upbringing interacting poorly with his rebellious nature.

On the note of Alfred's highly detailed masturbation fantasies, he was having difficulty figuring out how to make those more than that. He found himself humming the Billy Ocean song _Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car_ while changing in the locker room purely for the chorus (he didn't know the rest of it). But even when he set himself up for it - showing up early ( _Ooh, sir, we don't have much time we could get caught any minute now_ ), staying late and dressing slowly ( _Goodness, bruised knuckles make it hard to button this shirt of mine, looks like it's just the two of us now_ ), performing at top of the class - no matter how hard he tried and how hard he pushed, it seemed like being better than everyone else actually just annoyed Mr. Braginsky. 

He even managed to break the track record that had remained untouched since the sixties. The student that had placed the last record went on to win the silver for USA in the Olympics, and Alfred still beat it by a decent margin. The rest of the team was cheering but Mr. Braginsky just looked ready to pop a vein with how angry he was and told Alfred to hit the showers. What the hell was he not doing right? How the hell was he not a desirable (if underage) piece of ass?

Alfred still went home right after school, threw his bedroom door shut, locked it, and beat off harder than he ever had before. 

It was his most basic fantasy that was quickly becoming his favorite. There was no lead up, no elaborate story for how they got there (if nothing else, all of the original plans had long since been shot down). Just Ivan Braginsky, built like a fucking brick house, pressing Alfred against the lockers in the gym changing room so hard that he was going to have a bruise on his stomach from one of the locks but he didn't fucking care because he could feel Braginsky's hardness through their shorts, rubbing up against his ass. God, Ivan would tease him at first, let him feel the length, build up the anticipation while murmuring in Alfred's ear. A quiet, low sound meant only for Alfred, close enough that his tongue and lips brushed up against the shell of skin and cartilage - _audio sex_ and Alfred was already hard as a rock from anticipation alone. It didn't matter what Mr. Braginsky was saying, sometimes it was in Russian, but it was usually dirty.

The lockers were cold and he was rutting up against them to just get a little bit of _friction_ and Mr. Braginsky had to go and stop him- shifting his grip on Alfred's wrists to high above the boy's head so he could hold them in one hand while the other went to still his hips.

"How much do you want it?" Ivan murmured, and Alfred almost came from that alone. 

"I've never wanted anything else so badly, p-please!" He'd beg shamelessly. Ivan would take pity on him then, shoving his hand down the front of the boy's pants to palm him roughly - it didn't take long to make him come, just a few strokes and Alfred could feel the outline of Ivan's cock pressed between his cheeks as much as the fabric of the gym shorts would allow and he wanted it, he just _wanted_ -

Sometimes the fantasy would go further than that, with Ivan fucking him hand right then and there, but Alfred was so hard-up he was already coming at the jacking off part of that imaginary encounter and cut himself off there, quivering and spent and curled up on his side on the bed. 

A loud bang on his wall broke him out of the afterglow far too quickly.

"DAMN IT, FRED!" came his brother's voice from the other side of their (oh, right, really _thin_ ) shared wall. "If you're going to have dirty fantasies about the gym teacher _at least wait until I'm not home!_ I didn't need to hear that!"

Alfred rolled his eyes and grabbed some tissues from by his bed to do some rudimentary clean-up while he yelled in return,"You're _always home_ , what am I supposed to do?"

"Learn some volume control!" Matthew fired back. Alfred just laughed, stripping off his shirt, pants, and underwear. 

"Well I'm about to follow it up with round two in the shower in five minutes, so you might want to get your ass to the library to study, broski!" Alfred yelled while he tossed his clothes in the hamper and grabbed the towel that was hanging off his closet door. "What can I say? Fantasy Gym Teacher is a _stud_."

Alfred knew full well their dad wasn't home, and even if he was it would have been worth being caught just to hear Matthew's frustrated yell, then, four minutes later, the slam of the front door. 

Dad wouldn't be home until well after dinner, at least. He always worked late on every day of the week that ended in "Y", and honestly even if he found out Alfred was having wet daydreams about a male teacher at his school he'd probably just give Al a halfhearted lecture before giving up and letting him do what he wanted. That was usually how thing went. Matthew got more discipline and less attention because he took both of them better than Alfred, who railed on attempts at asserting authority and demanded what little of their father's attention was left over to give after his work was done. Everyone knew Alfred was the favorite son, or at least the _favored_ son, and sometimes Alfred felt bad about then when he looked at how hard Matthew worked for so much less recognition than Alfred got for his effortless success. 

That was just the way things always were, though. Whether or not he could change anything had little bearing on the fact that he had no idea what they could be changed _to_. For sixteen years, that had just been life in the mid-sized Queen Anne style home on the corner of Blaine Avenue and Surrey Lane, built in a time when small yards and large homes were fashionable so it comfortably fit one father and his two teenage boys. Without realizing it, everything he knew as truth was teetering on a ledge, poised to fall at any moment.

 

"I just don't know what I'm doing wrong."

Lunch room again, which was actually the gym with tables in it. Kiku rolled his eyes and poked at his rice. He knew he shouldn't dignify Alfred's statement with an answer, and aside from the initial sarcasm had let it slide... but it had been over a full month now and he could only watch the other boy moon over the gym teacher day in and day out before he really had enough.

"He's either not into other men, _not a pedophile_ , or both. Which is statistically speaking the most likely possibility." Kiku pronounced, hoping with futility that Alfred would listen to reason this time, even though he hadn't every other time with this subject... or any subject at all really. 

"Pederast. I looked it up. Pedophile is if you're attracted to people who haven't stated puberty yet. Ped _erast_ is, like, if they haven't _finished_ it yet." When Kiku just stared at Alfred like he had grown a second head, Alfred at least had the decency to blush. "I totally checked on Wikipedia and shit!"

"Think for a second about what you are arguing about. In the lunch room. In public." Kiku said with deadpan stare. "Alfred, look at your life. Look at your choices."

"... I am a stupid bitch, aren't I?"

"I would not have used those exact words."

"I just can't wrap my head around it! I'm the best student in class and he hates me! And the more he hates me the more I just want to have hatesex with him!" It was a small benefit that as loud as Alfred was, his strange conversations with Kiku were so common-place that no one ever listened in on them anymore. 

"Hatesex?" Kiku asked.

"... It sounds so hot in all the fanfiction."

"You've been reading fanfiction. Gay fanfiction, I am assuming. Gay, pornographic, fanfiction."

"... Isn't that all fanfiction?"

"I think perhaps it would be best if we change the subject as quickly as possible." Kiku said amiably, finishing off his rice and packing up his empty lunch container. Alfred had only eaten half of his lunch - bought from the school cafeteria - mainly due to previously mentioned time spent mooning over the large Russian-American that could be seen directing students who were scheduled to take their lunch an hour later and were unfortunate enough to have to spend that forty-five minute block before it running around in the field. "I heard that Team Fortress 2 is coming out with a new update today. I'm certain my parents would not mind if you brought over your computer and had a two-person LAN party."

For some unknown reason, Kiku's parents didn't seem to mind Alfred anymore, likely because it seemed clear that for however much of a bad influence he was on Kiku, Kiku was clearly a _better_ influence on him. Additionally, they didn't care much for the parenting style (or lack there of) of Alfred's dad and sought to mitigate whatever damage there was in what time they had. Alfred didn't mind the 'back seat parenting', it was one of the few times where he had people who acted like parents were supposed to. At least, according to the media. 

Alfred looked down at his lunch, pushed some of the tater tots around in a disinterested manner, then sighed and shook his head. "Nah, dude, already committed to a party with the football team. Smith's parents are out of town and he got into their liquor cabinet. We're all gonna go down to the lake."

The lake in question was, blessedly, within a couple miles of Alfred's housing community. That meant he could walk home if need be, though that would be quite a long walk. Still, 'quite a long walk' was better than 'stranded 20 miles out in the middle of the city, downtown'. Kiku nodded stiffly, pulling his messenger bag over his shoulder. Alfred grinned and patted his friend on the back. 

"I'll IM you when I get back, you can tell me if the update has anything interesting in it, maybe we'll play a few rounds if you aren't in bed by then."

Kiku couldn't shake his sense of worry but thought that it was not the time to say anything. Besides, it was unlikely that Alfred would listen to him. So instead, he smiled.

"We will see."

 

**hey broskiku, mighht be back late 2nite, dont wait up for me. sleep important.**

_Ugh, that is sooooo not spelled right. At all._ Alfred thought, squinting at the words reflected back from his phone. He judged his own sobriety and how likely it was he would be able to spell it any better if he tried a second time, looked down at his half-finished beer, and decided that this would be as good as it got. His thumb managed to hit 'send' on the third try, and he promptly shoved the phone back in his pocket so that he wouldn't risk losing it. 

The party wasn't a total blow-out. He'd had enough alcohol to be pleasantly drunk. He'd played some games with the guys. He'd got into some hot and heavy make-outs with an equally drunk cheerleader from another school before he pushed her back in the direction of her sober female friend she'd showed up with because as hard up as Alfred was he wasn't a date-rapist. Now he was sitting on the edge of the dock with his feet (still in his canvas sneakers, soaked through) danging into the water which came up to about mid-calf, waiting for his ride to sober up enough to drive them both back to the housing community. 

He was the only one watching the water. Most of the lights were off, and out in the country like this you could still see some stars. Some colors reflecting off the lake confused him, though. It was late autumn edging into winter, so why were there fireworks like it was Independence day? He grabbed his glasses from where they hung at the neckline of his shirt (too likely that they'd fall off his face while drunk), and put them on.

Those weren't fireworks.

"CHEESE IT, IT'S THE FUZZ!" Alfred yelled, those words being the first thing that came to mind instead of 'cops'. Utter chaos erupted within seconds, everyone scrambling for a method of escape, the DD's shoving as many of their friends into the wheels as possible as the bright lights of the cops circled the lake on the narrow road that wound along it. 

Alfred was, despite his reputation, not a terribly good tactician. Oh, he wasn't _bad_ by any means, but that wasn't where his winning streak came from.

It came from the fact that he had the devil's own luck, and that fortune had so far consistently shown favor to that fool. 

There was no way his ride was sober enough to drive, Alfred had to ditch that plan. But there were a lot of evergreens and willows with low-hanging branches rimming the lake. 

There was a good chance his plan would end up with him drowned and a tragic case for the local news if he did this. Or that he would get arrested if he didn't. Fuck. He was too drunk to make decisions. Alfred pulled his glasses off, shoved them in an inside zip-up pocket of his jacket along with his house keys and cellphone, and dove into the lake. 

The water was freezing, but the shock of temperature was in his favor, it helped sober him up a little quicker as he took a deep breath then ducked under, swimming as far as he could until his lungs were burning for air before surfacing again, and then only just barely. It felt like hours but it couldn't have been longer than minutes that passed while he swam, almost getting tangled up in cat tails and lily pads - _Who was going to tell Kiku if he died?_ \- before ripping two up that had curled around his leg and pulling himself up to the bank of the water by a tree root. 

He'd made good distance, if the now stopped lights flashing back and forth from red to blue to red to blue again were any indication. They were all a blur, but a blur a good distance away. If he kept off main roads he could probably avoid being picked up. The cops seemed pretty occupied dealing with the kids that _didn't_ make a quick escape.

"Thank you, lucky stars." Alfred murmured to the sky. It took a few tries to get fully onto the grassy shore again - the ice-cold swim had sobered him marginally, but not _fully._

That was alright, he had a long, wet walk ahead of him to burn it out of his bloodstream.

He had to have been drunker than he thought, Alfred decided later. That was the only way he didn't notice the vehicle slowly pulling up next to him while he walked until the driver rolled down the window and actually called out to him.

" _Alfred Kirkand?_ " 

Alfred was startled enough to stumble, thinking for a moment that he _had_ been caught by the cops, but when he turned he didn't see a sheriff's cruiser. It was just an average, nondescript truck. 

Driven by a certain physical education instructor that had been in Alfred's mind nonstop for over thirty days running. 

_Fuck_ , he was too drunk for this!

 _It's okay, Freddy, act natural. There's no way he'll notice anything is wrong._ he told himself, focusing on his walk along the winding side-road that would eventually lead back to the housing community he lived in if he just kept following it. The stars gave enough light to see, which was good because there weren't any street lamps on this road, it was too rual. 

"Uh. H-Hey, _Mis_ ter Braginsky." Alfred said, trying to keep his speech unslurred and his walk steady. Mister Braginsky kept his truck at the same idling pace to keep up with Alfred. The teen wondered if his act was convincing. He hoped it was convincing.

"Alfred, would you care to tell me why you are currently stumbling, soaking wet, with a lilypad wrapped around your leg, _in the middle of the night,_ in a neighborhood that is not yours?" 

_Fuck._ He was busted. As much as Alfred wanted to run the risk of choking on Mister Braginsky's dick, he had a rebellious streak a mile wide that only got wider when he was inebriated. 

"You'll have to pose that question on Monday, _Sir_ , seeing as it's Friday night, I'm not in school right now, and am under no obligation to tell you _shit._ " He didn't look over, didn't want to run the risk of stumbling on his own shadow and falling flat on his face, but he was pretty sure the teacher wasn't pleased. Alfred had seen him yell at students before. It wasn't a pretty sight, and it usually left them in tears. Alfred didn't get any yelling, only silent disapproval, silent anger.

The sound of the engine shifted as the teacher threw the truck into park. 

"Alfred, get in the truck." Ivan Braginsky said, his voice tired. 

Alfred considered arguing more, considered a million other options.

In the end, he got in the truck.


	2. "Am I going to get in trouble for this?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred gets a ride home from Mister Braginsky and manages to not hurl all over his truck.

The suburb that Alfred lived in was surrounded by unincorporated county separating it from the city proper. As such, it wasn't uncommon to see a lot of trucks - there were plenty of farms and deeply wooded areas within twenty minutes in any direction. Of course, there were also plenty of people who just got trucks for show, but Ivan Braginsky's truck had clearly seen quite a bit of use as a farm assistant in its day. The inside was spotless, though. Like if Alfred hadn't just burned some of the alcohol off from a freak out panic earlier he'd probably be asking of the teacher was OCD. Three tries and the exact mechanics of the seat belt eluded him, though thankfully Ivan's patience was in a more generous mood out of school than in-school and he took the two buckles from Alfred to snap them together with ease for the boy.

Their hands brushed when he did so. Alfred suddenly realized that Mister Braginsky had actually never touched him before. His hands were large and warm - calloused, like there was a lifetime of hard labor behind them. Alfred's mouth had gone dry all of a sudden, and he was certain it was not an early hangover.

Ivan paid no attention to Alfred's sudden stupor, however. He just gave the belt a tug to make sure it was secure then shifted the gear back into drive, beginning the slow journey along the service road. Normally Alfred found silences awkward and oppressive, so he blasted his music when he didn't feel like talking. Ivan on the other hand drove in perfect silence, his focus on the road, his expression a complete mask. Alfred was at a loss. 

"...Aren't you going to ask me again why I was out there?" Alfred asked, shivering a bit from the chill of the water breaking through the fog of inebriation. Ivan smoothly turned a few knobs in the truck and the vents started blasting blessed heat.

"Would you tell me if I did ask again?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Alfred replied, blinking slowly as he continued to watch Ivan's hands. They were constantly occupied while he was driving - he drove a clutch. Alfred never learned how to drive one, his father had an automatic and Alfred flunked driver's ed, anyway.

Ivan made a humming sound somewhere in his throat - deep and rumbling.

"Well, you tell me when it's a 'yes' and I will ask again." 

Ten minutes before they hit farmland, and then it'd be another ten before they hit suburbs again. Alfred squirmed in his seat a little, closing his eyes and trying to not think of how his wet clothing felt really weird. 

"Am I going to get in trouble for this?" he asked at about he first ten minute mark, outside of the rambling rural suburbs that surrounded the lake and into the farmland where the stars burned as bright as they could this close to civilization proper. Ivan hummed again. Alfred liked that sound, the teacher never made it in class. 

"I should think that is your father's decision when you get home in that state that you're in." He answered finally. He never spoke recklessly, like Alfred. Every word was carefully considered. 

"He won't be home." Cue reckless statement number one. Alfred probably could have stayed quiet and escaped any punishment under the guise of his father giving it to him instead. "He'll be working late tonight. I'll be in bed before he gets home, he won't even know I was out." 

"Ah. Perhaps I should call him, then. Underage drinking is a serious offense."

_Busted_ Alfred thought. So much for faking sobriety. He fumbled with the zipper on his jacket - that pocket was waterproof, which was why he shoved everything in it - and fished out his phone. It was a little damp (the coat was old), but still functional. After a tricky bit of dealing with the menu screen, then contact list, he managed to get his dad's office line selected and held the phone out to Ivan. 

"You should pull over first." Alfred said, enunciating the words as clearly as he could, because even if Ivan knew he was drunk it was important to not _sound_ drunk. "Dial three at the menu, it'll push through to his personal line. He'll make a show of being a disciplinary if you call, but all he'll do is chew me out then let it drop. I've been chewed out before."

Ivan did indeed pull over, but he did not take the phone from Alfred's hand. When Alfred opened his eyes again, he saw Ivan looking at him with - it was a curious expression, one Alfred couldn't read. Not that he was terribly great at reading people in the first place. 

"And if I speak to your mother?" Ivan asked, and the words were so foreign to Alfred's ears that he was actually dumbfounded for a moment.

It was a small town, people did come and go from time to time but most stayed put. Ivan was the first new arrival in quite some time, and Alfred had not been asked about his mother in years. He was surprised to find himself laughing at the private joke.

"You can if you want." he offered, sliding the cover back over his phone since Ivan had made no move to take it. "But she's not much for discipline either. She also doesn't live at home anymore." 

For once Ivan's expression cleared to one that Alfred could place - he knew Alfred was holding something back, but had apparently decided that it was worth venturing through this potential minefield of a conversation to figure out what it was.

"Where could I find her, then?" he asked.

"Four-hundred-Thirteen, Picardy Lane." Alfred answered. Ivan's expression darkened for a moment at the trick, then softened. He put the truck back into drive and continued on the way back to town without another word. 

Alfred had given Ivan the address to the cemetery.

 

Matthew was mother's favorite. 

Alfred didn't remember much about their mother. He knew how she looked from the pictures around the house - pretty chestnut hair with a slight curl to it (Matthew got mother's hair, though with father's coloring), lovely pale skin, gentle stormy-blue colored eyes, always with a faint smile to her lips as if hiding a secret only she knew. Alfred only remembered her smiling because of the pictures, though. It was a different smile when she was alive, when she looked at him. A little sad. 

As if she was hiding a secret only she knew. 

Matthew was her favorite, though. For him her smiles came easily and her voice was always gentle. Alfred was never treated badly, but handled with a distant affection. Their dad clearly spoiled Alfred, however, so he never thought it seemed fair to argue, even if the spoiling was more in a financial matter. Matthew got raised as the son, Alfred just got to do whatever he wanted and got whatever he wanted within reason. 

But maybe that's how all families were. Matthew was always so quiet and passive and usually sick, while Alfred was healthy as a horse. Matthew needed more attention from mom because he was so weak. That was fair, and Alfred even preferred it that way, in that case. By elementary school he had himself thoroughly convinced that the gentle neglect was the way things _needed_ to be, and always made sure to push Matthew ahead of him when it came to getting attention from their mom. 

That's why he would never forget, even if other details were intentionally forgotten, when him and Matthew came home from school one day to find their mother laying cold and pale at the foot of the staircase, the first thought that crossed his mind was _'What's going to happen to Mattie?'_

 

In the end, Ivan apparently did nothing. When Alfred awoke from his hazy unhappy memories of the day his mother left his life for good, he found himself looking out the window and up at the two-story house on Surrey and Blaine that was his home.

The truck was idling, and it was cold. He looked over to Ivan. He had turned the heat off for now, sitting with the window open as he lazily smoked a cigarette. 

The desire to kiss the man hit Alfred square in the stomach like a sucker-punch. God, he just... he _wanted._ Everything about Ivan Braginsky made Alfred come alive with _want._

"Smoking is bad for your health." Alfred said, dumbly.

"So it is." Ivan agreed smoothly. _Smoothly,_ Alfred wanted, he _wanted_ Ivan to lick his skin and murmur in that voice against it. "Do you need help inside, or can you manage that?"

There was no car in the driveway, as Alfred had promised there wouldn't be. Matthew's light was also off. It was late, he was probably already asleep. Morning person.

He wanted to get help inside, wanted to pull Ivan against him and dry hump to orgasm through their clothing, he wanted Ivan to kiss him with a mouth that tasted like cigarette smoke.

A wave of nausea kicked those thoughts from the realm of possibility, though. He was just as like to throw up on Ivan assuming he even convinced the older man to kiss him.

"... I ... I got it." Alfred said, digging into his pocket for keys. They were also damp, but there. "... Thanks." 

Ivan merely nodded as Alfred managed to get his seat belt off, stumble out of the truck. 

"See you on Monday, Alfred." 

Ivan idled outside his house until he saw Alfred get the lock open, saw him turn to wave to show it was all clear. Luck still in Alfred's favor, he made it to the small bathroom on the first floor and all the way to the toilet before he proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach into it. 

He must have been loud enough to wake Matthew, because sometime during his bonding session with the toilet, he found his hair pulled back out of his eyes by tired but gentle hands, his back rubbed while he coughed and coughed until he was spitting up bile because there was nothing left in his stomach, then a damp washcloth offered to clean his face off. 

Matthew didn't ask about the dampness, or the plant matter he was dragging along with him. He certainly had to have heard about the police bust on the underage drinking party, but he didn't comment. He just looked at Alfred with that same sort of sad look their mother gave him.

"Go get in bed, I'll bring you some water and vitamins and tell dad you got food poisoning." 

It was easier sometimes, to lie, to pretend Alfred would have gotten in trouble if Matthew didn't cover for him rather than admit that there'd be no consequences. Alfred nodded. 

"Thanks, Mattie." he croaked, throat now sore from the coughing fit. He stumbled up the stairs as if already dreaming, kicking off his clothing and just curling up in bed without anything on. It was too much effort to get pajamas. When Matthew brought in the water and vitamins he took them, and dimly heard the sound of his father's car pulling up just as he started to drift off to sleep. The memory of Ivan haunted him, sitting in the truck in the dark, smoking and staring off into the night.


	3. "I have to stalk him."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For better or for worse, consequences are dealt.

Alfred had his alarm keyed to only go off on a Monday through Friday schedule, so he could sleep as late as he damn well pleased on the weekends. Once upon a time he had to wake up early on Sundays for church with the family, but that was a different life. One with a mother that smiled sadly. Alfred found out a few weeks after the funeral that church was like her smiles - now that she was gone, it was too. 

Matthew still went religiously, though Alfred privately wondered if it was habit, mourning, or actual faith that urged him to go.

Arthur worked. He always worked. 

Alfred slept in. Why not?

That was life.

It was Saturday though, not Sunday. Alfred awoke with a dry mouth that he knew was from hangover and not from the warm and rough hands of the Russian Phys Ed teacher who he was beginning to realize he knew absolutely nothing about.

A cool hand was on his forehead instead, though. Cool and smooth. That's what he woke up to, and murmured "Matt?" before opening his eyes to look at the tired figure of his father, sitting on the side of his bed. It was always a little strange to see his father in person. He was so used to all the photos around the house instead. Photos carefully timed in studios with ideal lighting when their mother was still alive. In those photos his father stood tall, everything about him straight lines and dignity and breeding. He didn't smile. He wasn't smiling as he sat on Alfred's bed either, but he rarely did. There was still a certain gentleness in his countenance, faint dark circles under his eyes, faint lines of age creasing his face. Aged ten years in a day, compared to the old photos.

"How are you feeling, son?" Arthur asked him. Matthew must have told him about the 'food poisoning'.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Alfred murmured, voice a bit of a slur. He couldn't see the clock, didn't know what time it was, but if the sun was up then Arthur Kirkland wasn't at home. It was an aspect of life that wasn't necessarily something Alfred liked but it was consistent and a comfort in that consistency. Dad at home with sunlight was cognitive dissonance, which didn't mix well with the hangover one bit.

"I was supposed to be gone an hour ago, but your brother had to go to the library and I didn't want you to wake up alone." 

It was a strange, almost alien feeling. His father was late to work for him. Maybe they were a family after all. It was with that thought that Alfred asked quietly, "...Dad, can you be in love with someone even if you don't know them?"

Arthur's hand stilled on Alfred's forehead, in the middle of brushing his hair back. Alfred had wandered into a conversation topic that was entirely unexpected.

"... What brings that on?" Mister Kirkland asked, and even hungover and half-asleep as he was, Alfred didn't miss the guarded tone to his voice. The question had him visibly shaken.

"I..." _I just wanted to fuck my gym teacher but now I think I'm falling in love with him and I know nothing about him at all aside from his name but I've never wanted anything so badly before and also dad he's probably about the same age you are_ "...nothing."

The topic was closed, and the moment between father and son had passed, like an eclipse coming to an end. 

Thirty minutes later Alfred watched as his dad's car pulled out of the driveway. It was still early. He stumbled through his morning routine. A quick shower, then breakfast which was a can of coke and a few pieces of toast to go easy on his stomach.

Then? Internet. 

 

**``**

**`--- StarfleetJedi has logged on. ---`**

 **`1to1ModelZaku: Where have you been? I've texted you a hundred times.` **

**` StarfleetJedi: Sorry Broskiku, had a wicked hangover. What's up?` **

**` 1to1ModelZaku: Check Facebook, half the football team got arrested last night. ` **

**` StarfleetJedi: ... You're fucking kidding me.` **

**` 1to1ModelZaku: I'm serious. A large portion of South Shore's team, too. They're talking about cancelling the season for both schools.` **

**` StarfleetJedi: That's bullshit! ` **

**` 1to1ModelZaku: Alfred you were at that party too. It isn't like this would be punishment for a crime that wasn't committed.` **

**` 1to1ModelZaku: I was worried you spent the night in jail, I almost called except I was worried that it'd rat you out if you managed to get out of it.` **

**` 1to1ModelZaku: How did you, by the way?` **

**` StarfleetJedi: Swam through the shallows until I passed the cops, no one checked the water that far.` **

**` 1to1ModelZaku: ...` **

**` 1to1ModelZaku: You swam.` **

**` 1to1ModelZaku: While drunk enough to type 'tonight' as '2nite'.` **

**` 1to1ModelZaku: Alfred you could have drowned. ` **

**` StarfleetJedi: It was dangerous and stupid and I won't do it again, okay? I promise. Scout's honor.` **

**` 1to1ModelZaku: You were never in boy scouts.` **

**` StarfleetJedi: Damn right I wasn't, bunch of closeted cultists. I gotta do some physics homework, so I'll be afk off and on.` **

Alfred didn't keep up his GPA by slacking off. The luck was padded with a healthy dose of hard work when no one but Kiku was around to observe it. Not that he had to work THAT hard - math and sciences came easy to him. There were simple yes or no answers, no essays where you had to argue your opinion. He hated those. He felt what he felt and that was that, why did it need explaining? Kiku said it was because he was an intuitive thinker instead of a logical thinker, despite his strengths in logic-based areas. He 'felt' rather than reasoned, so when it came to things like explaining why he hated someone usually the best Alfred could come up with was 'HIS FACE IS STUPID AND HE'S A DICKBAG'. Kiku on the other hand was a rational, logical thinker. Perhaps that was why talking about his feelings for Mister Braginsky with Kiku left Alfred so frustrated.

"Why does there have to be a reason?" He asked, talking with the other boy on a private chat line while they ran through a few levels sniping Reds and testing out the new update as promised the day before. A personal reward for getting homework done early. "Maybe it's like fucking destiny or God's plan or something and there is no other reason, did you ever think of that?"

"Firstly, you are an atheist so do not start with destiny or God with me." Kiku's kill count began to rise, slow but steady, the only sign that he was starting to get aggravated with Alfred even though his voice remained as calm as ever. Ever rational. "Secondly, you are a belligerent horny drunk, I can tell from your stories after you sober up. You were inebriated, he was kind, so you are making up this elaborate love story in your head to justify your hormonal lust. Thirdly, did you even consider for a moment the kind of danger you place yourself in with this kind of relationship? You don't even know anything about him. Teachers have been sent to jail for less and even if you are taken advantage of and can prove it in a court of law you will still be harassed for years by victim-blamers."

"You are absolutely right. I don't know anything about him." Alfred agreed, coming to a realization. "... I have to stalk him. Be back later dude, I'll text after dinner." he logged off to the sound of Kiku's confused shouting of that _not_ being what he meant _at all._

Unfortunately, a couple hundred google searches later and Alfred realized he had learned only one thing about Ivan Braginsky.

He apparently wasn't on any kind of grid that Alfred could find. 

The boy leaned back in his computer chair, stomach growling unhappily at the neglect of the past few hours while he was wrapped up in his search. 

"Jesus tapdancing Christ. What kind of person doesn't even have a goddamn _Facebook_ page?"

That was Saturday in a nutshell.

 

Sunday came and went quietly, and Alfred dreaded Monday. It was then that they would find out what kind of punishment awaited those who were caught at the party, and even if Alfred hadn't been picked up by the cops Mister Braginsky knew he was still there. He followed the drama on Facebook and made appropriate sympathetic notes - at least those that were caught didn't rat out those that managed to get away. Thank goodness for small favors. He felt sick all day on Monday, sick enough that he didn't even bother with lunch. Which was alright because Kiku was still mad at him for being an idiot and they weren't talking anyway. That would probably last at least until tomorrow morning, most of their fights didn't last more than two days though so he expected all clear by Wednesday. If he lasted until Wednesday.

Still, it would have been nice to have someone to talk through his anxiety with. 

At least everyone else on the team seemed as nervous as he did when he made his way into the locker room, guilty and innocent parties alike all apparently five minutes away from an ulcer as they waited for Mister Braginsky to arrive and tell them what their punishment was. The last coach they had was infamous for his favor to the sports teams and would have given them a slap on the wrist, but the Russian was proving to be far more of a disciplinary now that he had taken over that old position with the former teacher's sudden and suspiciously early retirement - worst yet, he did it all with a smile. 'Sadistic bastard' was a reputation that was quickly growing for Mister Braginsky.

Alfred still wanted to go down on him. 

Anxiety kept his dick in check while his dick kept his anxiety from getting out of hand. It was a strange kind of symbiotic relationship. 

Mister Braginsky didn't make them wait long.

He strode in exactly as the bell went off, his voice cutting through the silence left by it. 

"For those of you who were picked up by the police on Friday night and were determined to be under the influence, you're off the team. Grab your bags and leave, now." He didn't pause to let the protesters have any say, voice just pitching louder to steamroll over any arguments. He had that sadistic smile on again. "Those of you that were picked up by the police and determined to be sober, I thank you for your forethought. You are suspended for the rest of the season. THE REST OF YOU - due to the fact that we are short more than two thirds of our team, rather than make up the difference I think you should be taught a lesson: The season is cancelled. Those of you on suspension will serve it next season when it's actually a punishment. You are dismissed. Except for you, Kirkland. In my office, now." 

Alfred tried unsuccessfully to swallow the lump that was in his throat. Everyone else was too busy talking, no one really paid attention to the specific command given to him, or assumed it was something unrelated. After all, Alfred Kirkland just got away with everything. 

He grabbed his bag and shuffled in to the small office, closing the door behind him when Ivan nodded at him to do so. The teacher was not sitting at his desk, he seemed disinclined to. He preferred to pace, to stand. A chair was out in offering to Alfred however, and he wasn't sure if it would be better to stand or sit. He went with sitting, since there was a good chance he could be in trouble and pretending to be sorry usually got him out of anything. Sorry people kept their heads down, right? 

He'd do it all again for another truck ride with Ivan.

So Alfred sat down in the chair, ducked his head down, and his bangs hid how his eyes were carefully watching one of the reflective chrome sides of the desk so he could sort of make out Ivan's expression while he observed Alfred.

Fuck, he was frowning, he was mad again. Why did he keep making Ivan mad? What was he doing wrong?!

"Mister Kirkland," Ivan said finally, arms crossed, face looking stormy at best. He was so damn hard to read but he clearly wasn't happy. "As you will not be having football practice to worry about, you will instead have that time occupied by detention."

Alfred's head shot up, unable to stop himself. "What? _Detention_? You can't be serious, we practice almost every day!"

"I could of course tell the police and the principal that there was at least one more they didn't catch if you would prefer to deal with the same punishment that they are receiving." Ivan offered. So that was his game, Alfred realized. Blackmail, effectively. He was angry and turned on at the same time.

Al had heard a bit of what the other students were going through thanks to the wonders of the internet. He didn't envy their positions over the next few months while they dealt with the fallout. Nothing beat Smalltown USA in a moral panic, even in a relatively more liberal state.

"I'll take the detention, _Sir_." Alfred growled out. He couldn't keep the annoyance out of his voice. Wearing his heart on his sleeve wasn't just a romantic flaw.

" _Horosho._ " Ivan said, god damn it, it was hard enough dealing with the accent, but Alfred had a thing for European languages. They just got him hot and bothered. "I do not believe you will be sufficiently punished by traditional detention, however. Mondays you will serve with other students, the rest of the week you will serve with me."

That got Alfred dumbstruck, staring. Detention, almost every day of the week, with _Ivan Braginsky._ This was the chance he'd been waiting for. To talk to the teacher, to find out more about him, to figure out what the hell he was doing wrong all the time to make Mister Braginsky so angry with him. 

"I'll need to inform your father," Ivan continued "Can I trust you to take a note back to him or-"

"I'll tape it to his computer at home so he gets it." Alfred said quickly. "If you want I can also give you his work fax number though. You know. To make sure and shit."

"Watch your language." Ivan chided.

He sent the note home with Alfred instead of faxing it before sending him on his way. Alfred read it as soon as he was back out in the halls. Generic detention notification for violation of school rules, with no indication as to what that violation was. Alfred could protest of course and if he did, Arthur would decide it was less trouble to deal with the school than his son, but if Alfred said nothing Arthur would simply sign it and think himself lucky that Alfred was apparently learning to submit to some kind of authority.


	4. "If a house is fucking haunted, you get the hell out."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are friends for, anyway?
> 
> Guilt trips for your own good, that's what. 
> 
> (Also Alfred has a detailed shower fantasy.)

Ivan Braginsky was right about one thing, at least: Alfred Kirkland didn't function in normal detention. Admittedly this was his first chance to figure that out, he'd previously been able to skate by it with either a smile or an argument that made him 'not worth the trouble'. Some way or some how, he even convinced the Math teacher that ran it to let him out early on good behavior that day, something about a 'first offense' being thrown in as well. Hell, even Alfred didn't understand it, but he was able to be out in time to meet up with Matthew who was just leaving hockey practice. It was one of the school's more under-funded teams, but Matthew excelled at it. Alfred had no talent on skates, so he let Matthew take the spotlight for that team and stuck to sports where the most specialized shoes involved just better arch support. 

He darted down the hallway, hanging a left outside of the Library rather than the right that would lead to the commons. When it came to day to day practice most of the hockey team just practiced on roller blades, so that would mean they were outside. 

"MATT!" Alfred yelled, flagging down his brother who was assisting one of the tall guys with spiky blond hair (holy shit seriously dude how much product _did you need?_ ) in getting a stuck skate off. Matthew looked up, startled to hear his brother's voice. Just then, the skate popped off and Matthew fell onto his ass.

"Matt!" it was the tall dude's turn to yell, apologetically helping Alfred's brother back up. Alfred swore the guy looked familiar but couldn't quite place him. He was probably a Senior and that was why, most of the hockey team was. 

"Sorry bro, didn't mean to startle you like that." Alfred said with an only slightly apologetic grin, jogging up to his brother. Matthew sighed, passing the other boy's skate to him and looking over to Alfred again.

"I heard about the football team. Harsh." His voice was laced with sympathy, which was weird because that would create a vacuum in the sports for the school and give Hockey a chance to shine. The tall boy nodded along with Matthew's statement.

"Ain't no thing. I like track better, honestly, and this gives me time to focus on that." Alfred said wit a grin and a thumbs up. Matthew laughed.

"Good optimism. I was just finishing up here, if you want to wait for me we can walk home together." Due to conflicting schedules, the two brothers hadn't really walked home together since they were kids. Alfred nodded, giving his brother a second thumbs up. 

"Sure thing, bro. I'll be over by the benches." 

"Thanks. Tim and I clean up fast, it'll just be a moment." 

Matt was kind of a bit of a neat freak at times, and this other guy seemed to be full-blown neurotic as far as that kind of shit as well. Thorough but efficient. Alfred sat down on the bench that got the most sun and pulled out his phone to text Kiku. Sure, Matt was his brother and all, but... that wasn't the same as talking to his best friend. 

` ****`

`

I'm sorry.

`

 

It was kind of a dirty tactic. Kiku was polite to a flaw, even if he could be rather backhanded with his comments to his friends. Alfred knew him well enough to know that if you apologized and admitted flaw to him first he would feel obligated to do the same. Also, God's (unfailingly polite, passive-aggressive) wrath upon you if he apologized and admitted fault first and you failed to extend the same courtesy. 

By the time Matthew parted ways with Tim and made his way over to Alfred, the boisterous boy was already getting the chime of the chorus of Cherry Bomb by the Runaways. 

"Girlfriend?" Matt asked.

"Dude, no way. It's Kiku." Alfred said standing, sliding his fingers across the touch-screen to see Kiku's answering message of 'I'm sorry too.'

"... You have Cherry Bomb as Kiku's personalized ring tone on your phone?" Matthew's voice sounded disbelieving at best. It wasn't the first time someone wondered if Kiku and Alfred were secretly more than 'just friends'. What they didn't understand was that the two boys _were_ more than just friends. They were totally platonic life partners. 

"It's his favorite song." 

As Alfred walked home with his brother, he completely dominated the conversation as he talked about how ticked off most of the team was, who was dating who, gossip that Matthew didn't honestly care about but it filled the empty air none the less. Even though Matt knew about his hard-on for the Russian Phys-Ed teacher, it still seemed a little weird to talk to his brother about. Matthew brought the subject up first, anyway.

"Mister Braginsky, he's a little... scary, don't you think?" Matthew asked as Alfred paused to shoot a quick text off to Kiku planning on meeting up for some hanging out before dinner. 

"Yeah," Alfred agreed, distracted. "It's totally hot."

There was almost thirty seconds of silence before Alfred realized what he had just said.

"I MEAN- like, in a spy movie! He'd totally be James Bond's rival character, for the affections of some hot chick with a punny name, you know? Totally." 

There was a benefit to having weird conversations frequently.

Most people preemptively decided they didn't even _want_ to know when you were making a bad effort at hiding something. Like a potentially growing kink for danger. 

"Look, I'm just saying watch out, okay? I heard you got detention with him. ...I didn't want to say anything, but he was really tough on me last week when Max mentioned I was your brother. He's let up now, but... did you do something to upset him?" Matt was, sadly, quite used to getting all the flack that his brother escaped. They looked similar enough to easily be mistaken for one another even if they weren't identical, and Alfred seemed to have gotten all of the luck between the two of them. 

"I dunno, dude! Been trying to figure that one out myself. I only ever try my hardest-"

"I somehow doubt that."

"What's _that_ supposed to- hey watch it, squirt!" Alfred almost tripped over the elementary-schooler that ran right in front of him, in a rush to catch the last bus. They were passing by their old grade-school - it was slightly closer to home, and had walked home together every day from it. Matthew paused, watching the young boy run to the bus, turned his eyes to the few children making their own way home by foot. Alfred laughed. "Man! Seems like just yesterday we were munchkins running around like that, doesn't it? We'd cut through that lot they built the church on."

"... That was a long time ago." Matthew's words were so quiet, Alfred turned to look at his brother as they started walking again. 

"What's your problem, man?" Alfred, tactless as ever.

"Don't you remember the last time we walked home together?"

"Nah, bro. But we were little, right?" Alfred asked with a shrug. "Who remembers that shit anyway? Our times stopped matching up, so-"

" _That's not why!_ " Matthew was glaring at him now, like Alfred had done something to personally offend him. Alfred wanted to either kick himself or the world - what was he doing wrong lately that had everyone so angry with him?

"You don't - you don't consider anything that happens where you can't see it, do you?" Matthew continued, gritting his teeth. "Anything that's unpleasant or hard to deal with, you just let yourself forget it and move on. Not everyone can just turn that off and on like a light switch, though! And - _you don't even know why I'm angry, do you?!_ "

It must have been Alfred's confused expression. He took an instinctive step back from Matt.

"I-" he wanted to say that Matt was wrong, that he knew, but - even as he stopped to try and think about what Matthew could be referring to, it was like his brain just shut down. 

_Don't look there._ a part of himself said quietly. _It's unpleasant._

So he didn't.

"...I don't. I'm- I'm sorry."

Matthew sighed, fight gone out of him in an instant. He looked away.

"... No you aren't. You don't understand what 'sorry' means. Forget it, you catch up with Kiku. You were going to anyway, right? I'm making Mac and Cheese for dinner tonight, if you aren't back when it's done I'll put your share in the fridge with Dad's." With that, Matthew turned on his heel and stormed off before Alfred could recover enough to call out to him. 

_What am I doing wrong?_

 

Rather than going home and running into Matthew before the other boy calmed down, Alfred texted Kiku and met him outside of the convenience store. It wasn't exactly a thrill a minute, but places for hang-outs were few and far between in the small town, and if nothing else the convenience store carried Alfred's favorite brand of energy drink. Also, it was that or hang out at the Wal-Mart, and as Alfred stated even _he_ had standards.

Unlike with his brother, Alfred told Kiku absolutely everything. The detention, the fact that he didn't mind the detention, and his confusing fight with Matthew. 

"He does have a reason to be upset." Kiku said, shaking out his Skittles into his hand, then separating out that handful by color before eating them. "But I'm also not surprised you don't get it. You're very... focused on the present, and the future. Like Buffy." 

Alfred hummed a few bars of the _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ theme. 

"If I was a chick I'd totally look like Sarah Michelle Geller. You know, back when she was in Buffy." Alfred nodded sagely, even though his expression was still one of concern. He couldn't hide his feelings, though Kiku could see right through most people anyway. He'd known Alfred for a long time, and Alfred was probably debating on whether or not to ask Kiku why Matt had been upset, banking on his friend to know. 

Kiku did know, but Alfred decided not to ask, so Kiku just shook out more Skittles and let the moment pass them by.

"Not Grudge though. I mean, seriously. If a house is fucking haunted, you _get the hell out,_ am I right?" Alfred shuddered. He hated ghosts, though Kiku was pretty certain the thing he hated was the idea of something he couldn't fight back against. It made watching scary movies with Alfred interesting, to say the least, as he'd either freak the fuck out or dissect them with gamer logic. 

'It's simple.' He said once as they watched one of the 99 cent rentals they'd picked up. The protagonist yelled to the approaching ghost that the ghost couldn't touch him, but then the ghost did. Cue panic and freak out on the part of the protagonist, but calm on the part of Alfred. 'If they can touch you, then _you_ can touch _them_. And if you can _touch_ something you can _hurt_ it.' 

It should not have been surprising to anyone that knew Alfred that he was banned from every single 'haunted house' in the county that cropped up during Halloween. Kiku got to witness the very last one he went to (shortly before they watched the movie), wherein Alfred proceeded to pile-drive a poor guy into a wall for jumping out at him in a very lifelike undead costume. Only Alfred's age and his father's money got him away with a slap on the wrist. 

In retrospect, Kiku wondered if he should actually be worried for Alfred when it came to Ivan Braginsky. It might make more sense to be worried for Mister Braginsky. A frightened Alfred was a dangerous Alfred.

"Just promise me you'll be careful?" Kiku asked finally, when he had finished his candy and Alfred was glancing back at the convenience store doors, obviously pondering ice cream to follow his energy drink. "About this detention thing. Life isn't a porno, you could still be seriously hurt. You are my friend, and I worry about you."

Alfred grimaced.

"Goddamn it, Kiku, why'd you gotta go pulling the F-Card on me?" just like Alfred knew he could con Kiku into ending a fight early, Kiku knew how to appeal to Alfred's very small sense of guilt to make him think of his actions first.

"Because you are my _friend_ and I _care_ about you." Kiku said serenely. Alfred's pout was quickly reaching epic proportions.

"Yeah, you're my friend too. Come on, douchebag. I'll buy you an ice cream then walk you home."

 

The porno wasn't a bad idea, Alfred decided. He was pretty certain he understood the mechanics of gay sex, but actually seeing it was another thing entirely. So he went home, scarfed his mac and cheese, yelled "STUDYING!" and slammed his door shut before throwing on his headphones and finding a couple porn sites that worked on the honor system for ages and abused the hell out of that system. 

It was a little hard to find what he was looking for - older guy with a younger guy without skirting the line of exploitative underage porn which let's face it would be a really embarrassing thing to get busted on since he himself was underage. Kinda like how all the Snape/Hermione fanfictions were almost always written by young girls who identified with Hermione, he totally sat it on a lecture that included a study on that at a convention or something, before he tuned it out and went to go play more video games because he wasn't all _that_ into Harry Potter at the time and he especially wasn't into the moral repercussions of anything that was trying to kill his buzz.

A little patience yielded success, however. 'Sugar daddy' 'rent boy' kinda stuff, though Alfred thought rather scathingly that you didn't have to be paid to want to bang someone older than you. Sometimes their experience was hot.

He didn't just _watch_ the pornography, either. He fucking _studied_ it (so it wasn't really a lie when he said he was studying), the way the younger guys would suck cock, the way they moved their lips, the things that seemed the most pleasing for their partners. 

And, god, watching the older guys grope them, feel them up through clothes (sometimes in public, okay that was _hot_ ) and rub up against them, take their time playing with their partner's ass before they put it in - _oh fuck_ Alfred was not expecting to get so hard at that, but his cock was tenting his pants and he just needed some _release_ -

Alfred muted his computer sounds and tugged his headphones off. He could hear Matthew's music through the wall, quiet but present. If Alfred had a little more ambient noise and actually tried to keep it down, he might be able to get away with jacking off in private. 

"I'm taking a shower!" He called to Matthew through the wall, who made a sound of confirmation that he had heard his brother but nothing more. He was probably reading or something. Alfred scrambled into the bathroom and locked the door, turning on the fan and the shower and actually stripping with such haste to get in and get _off_ that he had left his glasses on. The world was one big wet blur before he realized that's what he had done, which lead to a bit of muttering and breaking the mood when he managed to get them off and onto the cabinet by the shower while trying not to get too much water on the floor. 

As he leaned back against the wall of the shower Alfred let his mind wander, hands doing the same. 

It'd be in Mister Braginsky's truck this time, he decided. Like he night he was driven home, but he wouldn't be wasted. No, he'd be sober. 

Sitting there in the dark, a little cold from the open window as Ivan had a cigarette. Alfred turned to him then, watch as the smoke drifted through the air and he wanted, he just _wanted._

" _Please._ " He asked, voice a breathy whisper, and that was the only word that was needed. Ivan leaned down over him, until Alfred's back was pressed against the door, the Russian a dark shadow over him aside from the embers of his cigarette, the way they reflected off of his violet eyes. His hands were braced against the window.

"You're sure?" Ivan's voice was a low rumble, asking because he _did_ care. He'd showed it that night he picked Alfred up after the party. No matter what it seemed like, Ivan _cared._

" _Please._ " Alfred repeated. Ivan lowered a hand to caress the boy's cheek, feeling his skin before drifting lower. Fingertips danced along Alfred's neck, traced the line of his collarbone, strong but so gentle. He leaned in and captured Alfred's lips and tongue in a heated kiss that left him dizzy. Ivan tasted like cigarettes but Alfred still leaned forward when he pulled back, trying to chase that smokey taste he was already growing fond of. Ivan's laughter was a deep rumble in his chest and it made Alfred _ache_.

"Last chance to back out." Ivan said, and Alfred felt the words more than heard them, spoken against his neck as Ivan peppered kisses along the sensitive skin. Alfred shifted in his seat, spreading his legs as best he could while he tugged Ivan in closer by the collar of his shirt.

" _More._ " he whined. That was the key, apparently. At least in Alfred's fantasy it was. Ivan's wandering hand found Alfred's crotch, pressed against his growing erection, enough pressure that it bordered on painful but Alfred still bucked against it as best he could. God, he wanted, he _wanted_. Ivan let out a pleased hum, rubbing the heel of his palm against the straining bulge in Alfred's jeans until Alfred was whimpering and squirming. Then and only then did he deign to unzip Alfred's trousers and tug them down his hips, taking his boxers with them. The cold air stung a bit, but Alfred's internal heat was quickly rising to the point that he didn't give a fuck. Ivan just crouched there for a second, looking down at Alfred gasping and hard and _wanting_ before taking the cigarette from his mouth and putting it out in the ashtray, then ducking down to kiss Alfred again. Hard, passionate, the kind of kiss that left you weak at the knees even when you were fully clothed and hadn't spent several minutes being felt-up before-hand. As it was, Alfred almost came then and there. Ivan's hand held the base of his cock in a vice-like grip before he could get too over-excited.

" _Nyet._ " Ivan whispered against Alfred's lips. "Good things come to those who wait."

He took his time stroking every inch of Alfred, mapping out the younger man's sex by touch, what made Alfred quiver, what made him moan, He pushed up the hem of Alfred's shirt and pinched a nipple which got a surprised but pleased squeal from the boy. The windows were already fogged up even with one cracked open like that, and Ivan still tasted like cigarette smoke and it was quickly becoming a turn-on for Alfred. His hands raked down Ivan's strong, toned chest until he got to the belt buckle and made short work of it. When Ivan moved to stay his hand Alfred just growled against his lips-

"I want you inside of me when I come."

Alfred wasn't a virgin, he'd slept with girls before. But when it came to guys... The idea of being penetrated was scary, yeah, but it was also _incredibly arousing_. Yeah you could just jerk each other off, or go with blow jobs, but Alfred wanted a cock in his ass god damn it. And it was his fantasy, so Ivan delivered. His hand moved away from Alfred's, he let the boy slowly slide the leather belt off of his waist while he kissed Alfred so intensely it may as well be a preview of what was to come. He hooked his arms under Alfred's knees, pulling them wider, throwing one over his shoulder to better position them. Alfred groaned as Ivan pumped his cock, thumb rubbing at the head and spreading his precome. His own hands felt up the front of Ivan's khaki trousers, fumbling with the button and zipper before he got them down, and _oh_.

No underwear. Just Ivan's flushed, thick cock, now freed from its confines. Alfred broke the kiss to gasp for breath and get a look at it and his mouth went dry. Ivan followed his gaze and chuckled. "Next time you can suck me, _da_?" Ivan promised, reaching up instead to run his thumb along Alfred's lip, the same thumb that still had traces of Alfred's precome on it. Alfred sucked on the digit greedily, loving the way that Ivan groaned at the sight of the act. He swapped the thumb out for his index and middle finger, ordering "Like you would my cock."

Alfred was only too happy to oblige. He was enthusiastic, he was lewd, it was his goddamn fantasy so he was a natural at sucking cock like a porn star, and he wetted Ivan's fingers with the same techniques. After what felt like far too short a time Ivan pulled back, but his fingers then went out of Alfred's sight. He felt them soon enough, pressed up against his entrance. 

"Relax, breathe." Ivan whispered, voice gentle. Alfred almost screamed as the first digit worked its way inside of him, slowly but surely. He was so tight around Ivan, tried to relax, tried to breathe - oh god Ivan's other hand was on him then, stroking his flagging erection back to life while his fingers stretched inside of Alfred, two now, and they felt impossibly large. Ivan's fingers probed deep inside of him, and the sensation was strange and new but so _goddamn good_ \- oh fuck _why_ had he never done this before? And still those searching fingers pressed deeper, feeling for something that had to be inside Alfred, if he could just-

The shock of pleasure that ran through him was so surprising, so _intense_ \- Alfred was broken out of his fantasy by his knees going too weak to hold him up as he fell against the wall of the shower, slid down it and landed far too hard on his tailbone, and it hurt and images of Ivan and the truck and the large hands all over him flew from Alfred's mind. That hardly stopped him though, a few quick jerks of his cock and pressing his fingers at just the right spot inside of him and he was coming _hard,_ unable to hold back a moan that made his throat burn with volume. 

Yeah, even with the fan on, unless Matthew was wearing his noise-canceling headphones he... probably heard that. 

 

The next day Alfred was resolved to get a pair of earplugs and leave them on Matthew's desk after school, because he was a good brother god damn it. First and foremost though was detention. Detention with _Mister Braginsky_ today. Practice was not immediately after the last class of the day, there was a period for finishing up any work that needed to be had, time to account for brief meetings with teachers, and of course passing time to push through the flood of students that filled the hallway. 

Alfred was practically vibrating in his seat as the clock ticked down. He had grabbed everything he intended to take home the period before that one, so the instant the bell rang he was already out of his seat and practically flying down the hallway with the speed of his sprint. He could totally imagine a musical accompaniment of Wang Chung's 'Fire in the Twilight' as he made his mad dash - already more than two thirds of the way to the gym across the whole length of the school before the hallways started to get too crowded with students for him to keep up his speed. Rather than slow down, he dove through a back door out to the field and cut through the back lot of the school to come in through the outside door the gym had, making it to the locker room with more than enough time to spare. 

Alfred was just about to call out to Ivan that he was there when he heard the man's voice - he couldn't make out the words exactly, but Ivan was definitely talking to someone. Curious, Alfred set his backpack down and walked as quietly as he could to the source of the sound. It was Ivan's office - he was in there with the door open, half under his desk while he worked at _something_ with a screwdriver under there. On the desk was his phone, clearly set to speaker phone while he talked and worked at the same time. It was a woman's voice on the other end, heavily accented, as Ivan's was.

"Yao called... He said he didn't have your number, he - he wanted to know how you were doing." the woman's voice said, hesitant.

"I'm sure." Ivan growled, tone colored with annoyance and sarcasm. "You can tell him I won't be returning to _Piter_ during Christmas, so he should not feel hesitant about checking in on his father's business there."

" _Vanya,_ I am certain that's not what he meant-"

"How ironic, _Sestra,_ as I am completely certain that is _exactly_ what he meant."

"Vanya-"

"My phone number has not changed since we moved to America, Katyusha. He chose to call _you_ , not me."

" _Vanya!_ "

" _No._ I am not having this conversation, not while at work. I have a student coming in for detention any minute now." with a grunt (oh fuck, _hot_ ) he finished whatever repairs or modifications he was doing to his desk and stood - Alfred had to duck behind some lockers to avoid being seen but not before he caught Ivan _shirtless and sweaty_ fuck it was just from the back but he was just as toned as Alfred had imagined. "I will visit you after work," Ivan promised the woman on the phone, picking the receiver up out of the cradle and thus cutting off Alfred from hearing the other end of the conversation. Ivan was silent for a few seconds before making an affirmative sound. "Yes, I love you too, _Sestra._ Goodbye." 

Alfred pressed his back against the row of lockers, thoughts racing. What did 'Sestra' mean? He sure as fuck hope it didn't mean 'wife' or 'honey' or something like that. He was going to just fucking die if that was the case. But Ivan didn't really have the tone of someone who was talking to their spouse. For that matter, who was Yao? Alfred had only heard Ivan that angry when he was addressing _Alfred_ , and the teenager felt an inexplicable annoyance and jealousy that someone else was inspiring that kind of emotion in the phys ed teacher. Even negative attention was still _attention_. Whoever he was, though, he was back in wherever the fuck _Piter_ was, which sounded like back in Russia from that context. Half a world away was very much to Alfred's liking for that potential rival. Though of course that was only with a standard world map, if you looked at a world map top-down, Russia and America were practically on top of each other, only really separated by Canada, and that was totally ignoring Alaska. You really needed a top-down map to put the fear of the Cold War in perspective-

God damn it, he was zoning out again, and now there were footsteps coming. He had to hide the fact that he was listening in.

The best way to hide something was in plain sight, right?

He proceeded to crouch down then barrel around the corner, yelling "HEY, COACH!" and running straight into Ivan. Alfred's quick speed made it seem like he was running for much longer than just a few paces, and there was the added bonus that he was still a little sweaty and winded from his earlier marathon through the halls to an awesome Breakfast Club-like montage. If only he could figure out if he was Emilio Estevez or Judd Nelson. Or some male-pregnancy-fetish baby of the both of them. 

Admittedly that train of thought didn't get too far out of the station. He did in fact run straight into Ivan, crashing into the solid wall of muscle. Tragically, Ivan had put his shirt on since Alfred had ducked back around the corner, so it was way less sexy and a lot more awkward, especially since it slammed his glasses into his face kinda painfully, and he was pretty sure his old frames would have broken had his dad not sprung for steel ones with the last visit to the optometrist. 

"Owwwww." Alfred stepped back, rubbing at the bridge of his nose which he knew was going to develop a hellacious and not at all sexy or attractive bruise. Ivan put a hand on Alfred's shoulder, holding him still and helping him steady. 

"The 'no running in the halls' rule exists for a reason, Mister Kirkland." Ivan chided sternly. When it looked like Alfred _wouldn't_ fall over any second, Ivan let him go. Alfred reminded himself to be disoriented for longer next time. 

"Sorry, sorry. Just... wanted to be on time. Make a good impression, you know?" Alfred grinned. It was the grin that charmed most teachers.

Ivan's expression remained unimpressed.

"Gym clothing, Alfred, and into the gymnasium. You have ten minutes." Both hands on Alfred's shoulders now, he turned the boy around and gave him a light shove in the direction of his locker. "Go."

With that, Ivan strode past him and through the door that lead into the gymnasium, leaving Alfred _again_ without a chance to try to seduce him through nudity. God damn it, why did _nothing_ ever go as he wanted it to?


	5. "You just coast on your success."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred loses his cool, Ivan talks about himself a little bit.

When Alfred entered the gym, he was met with Ivan shoving a mop at him.

"Detention will be spent cleaning, Alfred. This gym will be spotless when we are finished, da?" Ivan said smoothly. Alfred's eyes widened. 

" _Cleaning?_ Don't we have like janitors for that?" He asked, though he still took the mop. Ivan was holding one as well. 

"District cutbacks in poor economy give less and less budget to go around for everyone." Ivan said with a shrug. "Besides, in many other countries, students are responsible for the cleaning of the school. They are less inclined to wreck the building they will have to clean, and are able to take greater pride in their institution." Their voices echoed in the gymnasium - Alfred had never been in it before without a bunch of other students, and it was surprising how much the place actually did echo, how freaking intimidatingly large it really was when it was just two people in it. On the wall there were a bunch of posters advertising school events coming up. Homecoming was next week, he had completely spaced on it. Usually football was the main attraction, but this year it looked like hockey would get the spotlight. Otherwise it was mostly mid-winter break reminders that peppered the walls, as well as notifications about the issues with football and that mandatory drug and alcohol awareness classes would be required for all students. At least one of the fliers had been defaced and taken down already. People weren't happy, but they were more scared of Braginsky than they were angry, so most of the fliers remained untouched and the protests were surprisingly quiet. You didn't mess with small town football, but you also didn't mess with overbearing morals of a small town either. Unstoppable force versus immovable object and all that. 

At least Alfred wasn't left to do the cleaning alone, Ivan's mop wasn't just for show – he stepped away from Alfred and went to work with the easy grace of someone who was accustomed to manual labor. Alfred was lost in another fantasy for a moment, watching the way Ivan's muscles worked. He wondered if he could get a stealth photo of Ivan with his phone while the man was facing away from him. 

Alfred was determined, though. He'd get on Ivan Braginsky's good side even if it killed him. _Nose to the grind, Alfred, get to work._

He hadn't done a whole lot of cleaning since his mom had died - she enforced chores equally, but after her passing Matthew just did everything. Alfred never asked him to, and he was one hundred percent certain their dad never did either - hell, Arthur probably didn't even _notice_ \- but he'd just come home and find the living room vacuumed, the laundry done, and dinner in the fridge packed and ready to go. It all happened so seamlessly out of sight, sometimes Alfred forgot that their mother was gone. That maybe she was just playing a big joke on them and seeing how long they would fall for it, to be waiting when they came home at any day now, chiding them on how easy they all were to mess with. He wondered if that's how it was with dad, too. If there was anything in need of repair that was too much for Matthew to take care of on his own, he left a note in their father's study and Arthur would call in a specialist to have it done the next day. 

Alfred always snooped into their dad's study, just in case it was something he could do. He'd gotten pretty good at fixing sinks through trial and error. If he fucked it up too bad, Arthur would be placing the call anyway.

Still, mopping wasn't a highly complicated chore, right? It was like sweeping but... wet. And maybe he was a LITTLE out of practice. That didn't stop Ivan from giving him shit over his shaky start, though.

"You _have_ done chores before, haven't you?" Ivan asked, raising an eyebrow as Alfred tried to match how Ivan was holding his mop.

"OF COURSE I HAVE!" Alfred yelled before he could stop himself from snapping at the teacher. Somehow, that just made Ivan chuckle. This was insane - when he was trying to make Ivan happy he just pissed him off, but when he was yelling and snapping and being disobedient that actually seemed to entertain him. 

What.

The.

Hell.

... Worst off, it still didn't do anything to stem Alfred's crush on him.

"Just checking." Ivan said with a thoughtful hum before going back to work. He was content to work in silence, which unnerved Alfred a bit. He was used to every second of every day being filled with some kind of noise, but the sound of his sneakers squeaking against the floor wasn't really enough to fill that void. 

So, time for a change of tactic.

"Soooo, do you have any family in the area? Wife? Sisters?" Alfred asked when the silence got too much for him. Thirteen minutes in. He tried to not sound too hopeful on the question of 'sisters'. 

"That is not your concern, mister Kirkland." Ivan said, not looking up to Alfred as he worked. Shot down mid-flight like in duck hunt. Bam.

"Oookay, well, how about teaching? What got you into that?" Attempt number two, if it was a video game he was totally OCD about collecting extra lives. 

"Also not your concern." Ivan answered, continuing his work. Alfred huffed, his temper getting the better of him yet again.

"Dude, what is your _problem_? I have tried my hardest to be a good student and you just seem to _hate_ me for some reason, am I doing something _wrong_ or are you just an _asshole_!?" Alfred regretting the words the instant they left his mouth. Thinking before speaking, right, he was trying to learn how to do that. 

Ivan stopped his work then, leaning against the mop as he regarded Alfred with a critical eye.

"I highly doubt you are 'trying your hardest' as you say." he stated.

Right, back to angry in an instant. Alfred threw his mop down, and it clattered with an ungodly echo.

"WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP _SAYING_ THAT!?" it took all of Alfred's remaining willpower to not stomp his foot. Acting like a five year old throwing a temper tantrum would not be in the favor of attempting to look like a mature adult.

Ivan waited until Alfred was done shouting to respond.

"Can I make an observation, Mister Kirkland?"

"YOU'RE GONNA DO IT NO MATTER WHAT I SAY, SO FUCKING GO AHEAD."

" _Language._ " Ivan chided before continuing seamlessly into what he was going to say before. "You do not ' _try_ ' at anything, Alfred."

"HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?!" Alfred was really working himself up now - Ivan had been there when he broke that record, he'd seen how hard Alfred had pushed himself during gym, "I've done nothing but work my ASS off and you HATE ME for it!"

Alright, THAT broke Ivan's cool exterior. Alfred caught the brief souring of his expression, the sneer at Alfred's last comment. It was the kind of look someone gave right before they beat the shit out of you.

Ivan forced his expression and demeanor back to placid.

"Do not presume to understand the hearts of others, Mister Kirkland, when you do not even understand your own." He began, setting aside his mop and storming over to Alfred, looming over him. "As for your 'working' - yes, I have seen your performance improve leaps and bounds since my arrival at this school compared to your records for the last two years here - improvements which had no reason to have waited so long to occur. You. _Do. Not. Try._ You work only as hard as you must to be the top of your so-called 'game', and then are content to remain there with expending as little effort as you need to. You should have broken that record _years_ ago, you had the skill, but you didn't even bother trying until you felt the need to impress someone. You have had everything in your life simply _handed_ to you, content to remain the big fish in the small pond. You have never had to _struggle_ or work for anything. You just coast on your success."

"That- that's not true!" Alfred yelled back, straightening up to try and gain some height against Ivan. "There's plenty of stuff I've tried and I'm not good at!"

"But have you ever _tried_?" Ivan shot back. "Ice Hockey, that's the only team you are not on. Why?"

"Because I'm not good at it!"

"You have tried for months and have had to accept that you aren't capable of making the team, or you tried once and gave it up as something you simply had no talent in when you weren't automatically successful?" 

Alfred... didn't know what to say to that. Because, along with not wanting to outshine Matthew... yeah. He tried skates once, fell on his ass, then gave up when success wasn't instantly coming to him.

Ivan sighed, anger diminishing upon seeing Alfred's stricken expression. "You are a very talented and intelligent young man, Alfred Kirkland." he said, voice surprisingly gentle, like back in his truck that night. "And someone has done you the grave disservice of telling you that."

He bent down, picking up Alfred's mop and handing it back to him. Alfred took it mutely, looking down at the hardwood floors. He found that he was actually _embarrassed_ for some reason. He had never noticed this before, but now that he started thinking about it... all the things he claimed he was bad at, he had put out no effort. If success wasn't automatic, he accepted failure at face value and reveled in it as yet another thing he had no skill at that he could obsess about just as much as his talents.

Was that what Matthew thought of him? What Kiku thought of him? He felt sick inside, suddenly questioning all of his friendships and how others viewed him. A few feet away, Ivan picked up his own mop from where he set it down.

"Work, Alfred. You do not go until this floor is clean. ... Things will not seem so bad after an hour of honest labor." Alfred might have been kidding himself, but he could swear that there was the caring down in Ivan's voice again. Alfred ducked his head down and got back to work.

It actually took an hour and forty-five minutes total (Alfred had no idea the damage that the lunch mess did to the floors), but that ground was spotless by the time they were done. Alfred was more than slightly sweaty, and pretty exhausted. Too exhausted to feel much of anything, or focus on his imperfections. 

"Good job, Alfred." Ivan said, observing their hard work. It'd be messy again by tomorrow, but right now? It was goddamn perfect. "Hit the showers and change back. I will give you a ride home." The last bus had left already, and the school was damn near empty by now. By the time he was done with showering, they'd be the last two to leave. Alfred nodded, helping Ivan put the cleaning supplies away (glaring at him when he moved to do so on his own, if Alfred was going to help he was _goddamned going to HELP._ ) and then wandering back into the locker room. Ivan must have had his own shower as the teacher and all, because Alfred was all alone in the locker room shower stall when he stripped down and stood in the soothing spray of warm water. The heat felt good on sore muscles which were not used to the kind of work-out that chores offered rather than sports training, though he had a feeling he wasn't doing it quite right. He'd have to try harder next time. He was determined to try harder next time.

He washed as quickly as his tiredness allowed for, though by the time he toweled off and threw on his jeans and tshirt, Ivan was already waiting outside of the locker room in a different change of clothing than the gym clothes he was wearing before. His pale blond hair looked silver when wet, slicked back out of his eyes while it dried. For once Alfred didn't mind the silence, though part of that was being too lost in thought to notice. 

Ivan's truck was the last vehicle in the parking lot aside from the van that the janitor used. The sky was gray and threatening rain along with the windstorm that was picking up, so Alfred was thankful for the ride beyond his tired happiness of getting to sit in Ivan's truck again. The silence wasn't broken until they were both in the truck, seat belts buckled, and Ivan started up the engine.

"Two sisters." Ivan said, seemingly out of the blue. Alfred blinked a few times and looked over to him, confused. Ivan glanced at Alfred then went back to focusing on the road as he pulled out of the parking lot. "You asked if I had any family in the area. I have two sisters. Nataliya is younger than I, she lives in the city and does private ballet instruction. Katyusha - _Yekaterina_ -is older, she runs a small farm between here and there."

_Sestra_ must have meant 'sister', then. Alfred was suddenly, stupidly relieved. "And, uh, wife?" He prompted, just to be _sure..._

" _Net_. Never married, do not intend to." Ivan said, keeping his eyes on the road. "As for the teaching, I never saw myself as a teacher. I was given few other options, however. My last profession was closed to me."

Alfred kept his eyes on Ivan.

"What was that? Your, um, last profession."

"You've already had three questions today. Perform well tomorrow and I will tell you then." Ivan looked back at Alfred - too quickly they were at Alfred's home. The lights were on, Matt was already home from practice. The sky was an oppressive gray, but it still had yet to rain.

"Promise?" Alfred asked, hands hesitating on the belt buckle. Ivan sighed. 

"If that is what it takes to get you to work? Yes, I promise. Go, I have made plans with my sister, I am already late."

Alfred grabbed his bag from the small space behind the seats and darted up the several flights of stairs that lead up to his front door. Just as he got the knob turned - unlocked, yes Matthew was already home - he turned back down to the street. Ivan's trick was still idling, waiting to make sure he got inside okay. Alfred waved - he couldn't see if Ivan was watching him or not, but a moment later and the truck shifted back into drive, making its way down the street. Alfred stood on the porch and watched until it was out of sight.

The inside of the house was warm - a sharp contrast to the autumn chill of outside. Alfred hung up his coat and made his way into the kitchen, but Matthew wasn't in there. Alfred noticed that the flier for the homecoming game was up on the fridge, though. The new one, which featured the hockey team instead. He wondered if dad saw it. 

Alfred tugged the flier down and darted around the corner to where their dad's study was. The door was closed but never locked unless he was inside working. Locks just made the kids more curious. Everything was in the same perfect order it was always in, and there were currently no notes up on the computer about anything that needed fixing. Alfred grabbed a pen and circled the date on the flier, quickly writing - _MATT WILL BE PLAYING. PLEASE BE THERE. - AL._ He taped it up where Matt normally left his notes for dad.

He wasn't going to take hockey from Matthew, but he was going to find something he was completely awful at and do his best to become decent. He'd show Ivan. He was so wrapped up in putting that lecture in the context of hobbies and sports that he didn't even try to place it against the backdrop of his family. 

Admittedly, part of that was that he ... genuinely didn't want to.


	6. "Why are you so often soaking wet?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred vents to Kiku, and the two continue to prove that together they can be pretty dangerous.

After leaving the note for their dad, Alfred was ready to call it an early night. He did his homework as quickly as he could manage, ate dinner when it was still hot - in his room, he couldn't look at Matthew - and laid down to sleep. Something was still bothering him, though. He checked the clock - it was still reasonably early enough. 

Alfred pulled his phone out and dialed Kiku's number. He picked up on the second ring. 

 

Kiku was just finishing up dinner with his parents when his phone rang. His mother was always very set on family dinners, she read a study where children who had regular family dinners performed better in class and had less issues with school, so even though Kiku was the top of his class in almost everything and had never so much as gotten a side-eye by a teacher, family dinners every night like clockwork it was.

His mother gave him a stern look when his phone went off, but Kiku's explanation of "It's Alfred." made it all okay. Alfred's luck at Getting Away With Shit seemed to extend like a protective force field around Kiku at times. That and Mrs. Honda was very much aware that Arthur Kirkland spent more time at the office than at home and often left his two boys to fend for themselves. Words did not exist for her heavy disapproval, though politeness forbid actual criticism. She nodded to Kiku, who stood and took a step away from the table to answer.

"Hello, Alfred." Kiku answered, wondering what he could be calling about. It could be anything from 'I don't like what Matt made for dinner, can I come over?' to 'Dude did you read the latest issue of Captain America it's AWESOME-!' or the occasional 'I just had the hottest make-out session ever'. 

What he was greeted with instead was quite unexpected. 

"Kiku, do you think I coast through life and don't put any effort into anything?" Alfred's slightly muffed and morose voice said, cutting right to the chase. He was in a mood. Kiku gave his mom an apologetic look and mouthed 'He's really upset'.

Mrs. Honda just nodded solemnly, making a 'shooing' motion to let Kiku know he was excused to take the phone call in his room. Before he could leave the dining room his father interrupted.

"If that boy ever needs a place to stay, you tell him our home is always welcome to him." Mr. Honda had read studies on unhappy lives of teenagers, how it wasn't uncommon for many of them to actually leave home at sixteen and couch surf with friends until legal adulthood. Mrs. Honda nodded in agreement. 

"I'll tell him. Thank you father, mother." Kiku bowed his head and darted up to his room. When he was far enough up the stairs that his parents could probably not make out his words, Kiku ventured a question to Alfred- "What brought this on?" Alfred generally had zero self-awareness, Kiku was certain there was no way he came to this conclusion unprompted.

"...When I was in detention with Mister Braginsky today..." Alfred's voice sounded on the edge of tears, Kiku hadn't heard him sound so hurt in recent memory, and his protectiveness for his friend flared with overwhelming anger. He went into his room and closed the door so his parents would not hear, not yet, if something went wrong Kiku would have to plan first. To prepare before bringing them into it. 

"Did something happen, Alfred? Did he hurt you?" Kiku wouldn't put it past Alfred to ignore his warnings, to make a pass at the teacher then end up getting more than he had bargained for. Kiku already was making a list of who to tell - his parents would listen, they'd back up their son and Alfred, they had a good lawyer, but first Kiku had to make sure Alfred was okay and-

" _He yelled at me!_ " 

Kiku's righteous anger stopped dead in its tracks.

"What?"

"He YELLED at me! No one ever yells at me like that! I asked why he hated me and he got so angry! He said I wasn't, like, living up to my full potential and I only tried when I had to impress someone, and - and that I was basically just lording it over people and - and I can't stop thinking about it, is that what you think of me? Is that what Matt thinks of me? Do you secretly hate me all this time _please Kiku be honest with me-_ "

Kiku wanted to laugh at Alfred's desperate pleading tone - he had - he still had zero self-awareness! Even after someone spelled it out to him! But he knew laughing would just hurt Alfred's already bruised ego, and for someone as invincible as Captain America, Alfred's ego was his weak spot. 

" _Al._ " Kiku said with a heavy sigh, trying to hold back his mirth that it was JUST his ego that was harmed. He leaned against his bedroom door, sliding to the ground with his back against it. That had gotten Alfred's attention - Matt sometimes shortened it to Fred or Freddy, but Kiku insisted on using his full name - he only called Alfred 'Al' when he needed to get the other boy's attention. "Al, how long have we been friends?"

"I dunno dude, like forever?" Alfred said after a moment of thought. Kiku nodded serenely, he didn't expect Alfred to remember. That was just the kind of person he was. The past was quickly forgotten, or filtered through happiness or sorrow, depending on what he wanted to remember most about a situation. 

"We were in preschool, it was October." Kiku prompted. 

"Like now?"

"Yeah, about this time of year." Kiku smiled fondly, closing his eyes and remembering. "Two kids were making fun of my name. You threw a Tickle-Me Elmo doll at them. Hit one of them square in the head, he had to be taken to the nurse. The other ran away when you ran up to come at him too. You got _quite_ the reprimand and had to stay in during outside play time, and they called your mom. I stayed in too and shared my applesauce with you and told your mom you were a hero when she came to get you. That was about... twelve years ago now. So yes, basically forever."

"God, why do you put up with me, man?"

"Because you're my friend and I care about you." Kiku said softly. He was certain he heard Alfred choke back a very unmanly sob. "The point is, do you really think I'd be your friend this long and not know that about you? You are very very self-centered, and yes, you basically coast. But you're also a good person with a good heart. No matter what, you'll always be my hero. You're allowed to have flaws." 

Yes, that was a totally unmanly sob escaping on Alfred's end of the phone.

" _Jesus Christ_ dude I was just gonna whine but now I'm all emotional and shit, fuck, fuck fuck fuck, you bitch I shouldn't have called you."

"But I stroke your ego whenever you need it and shoot you down when you need it, so you trusted me to give you a straight answer while you worried your brother would say what you wanted to hear rather than what you needed to hear." Kiku provided with a smile. 

"Thanks for keeping me grounded, man."

"Someone has to. By the way my parents are worried that your unhappy home life will lead you to chose homelessness over one more day there, and they wanted me to let you know that you are welcome to couch-surf with us as long as you need."

Alfred actually laughed at that, a sound Kiku was relieved to hear. Crisis officially averted. 

"I'll remember that. They'll regret it if I ever take them up on it." Alfred laughed, and there was a shifting sound - he was probably laying down. "So I found out some stuff about Mister Braginsky." 

"Was this before or after he called you out on your bullshit?" Kiku asked lightly. 

"Hahaha - shut up. After. Well, I asked him before, he answered after. He's got two sisters, he's not married and 'does not plan to ever be' - that's code for gay, right? He's probably gay?"

"He could possibly be gay, or just against the idea of marriage."

"Whatever, he also got into teaching because he had to stop doing whatever it was he did before teaching. I asked what that was but he said I'd have to wait until tomorrow. So basically he's bribing good behavior out of me with talking about himself, which you know I'm cool with, I woulda been on my best behavior _anyway._ "

"A good trade-off." Kiku agreed solemnly. "I had an idea about how to assist your search as well, if you insist on e-stalking him." 

THAT got Alfred's attention.

"Yeah, dude? What, what, you find something?"

"Well, _no,_ but have you considered searching for his name in Cyrillic? Maybe that's why you haven't found anything, perhaps none of it is in English." 

"DUDE! I totally haven't, I'll have to figure out how to write it out, dude dude dude thanks man you're the best!" There was a banging sound on the other end, probably from Matthew hitting the wall so Alfred kept it down. "I'm so glad you're on-board with me about this now, ain't no one can stop us if we're a team!"

"I'm not 'on-board' with this." Kiku said, dropping his tone back down to disapproving deadpan. "I still think in a series of consecutively worse and worse ideas this is one of the worst you have ever had, that it's dangerous, and that it's not going to end well. But I also think that you'll be doing it whether or not I agree to help you with it, and I'm banking on the small chance that if I help you I'll be able to do some damage control." As he said earlier, Alfred DID go to Kiku first because Kiku pulled no punches when it came to telling Alfred he was being an idiot. 

"Hahaha, okay dude, that's fair. I'll take what I can get. Sorry to bug you, dude. See you tomorrow?"

"I look forward to it."

 

The next morning was so gray and overcast it looked for all the world as if the sun had simply forgotten to come up. Alfred couldn't have felt better when he woke up, though. He had detention with Ivan Braginsky for the second time this week, unfortunately the last week he'd be having it. Football practice was Monday through Wednesday, he had other activities on Thursday and Friday. 

He dressed as quickly as possible in the morning and skipped breakfast - he needed to get earplugs for Mattie anyway, so he was already going to stop by the convenience store. He paused his sped-up morning routine only long enough to check in his father's study. Even though Alfred had gotten up earlier than normal, Arthur Kirkland had already left for work. The study stood empty, as impeccable and unchanging as always. The flier Alfred had taped to his computer monitor was gone. Fighting a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, Alfred went over to the wastebasket by Arthur's desk, just to check - and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it had the exact same crumpled papers that were in it last night. Whatever he did with the flier, he hadn't thrown it away. There was still hope. Alfred's grin was wide and bright - yes, weather be dammed this was a good start to what was going to be a great day. 

"Freddy? What are you doing up this early?"

Alfred was startled out of his self-congratulating train of thought by the voice of his brother, turning to the doorway where Matthew stood in his pajamas still, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He almost always beat Alfred when it came to waking up, but it looked like Alfred was the winner today. 

"Got a lot of stuff to do today, Matt! Gonna be busy busy after school!" He didn't want to explain why he was in their father's study, so he breezed past Matt and gave him a too-hard pat on the back as he went. Matthew staggered, but was too sleepy to glare. "Don't worry about making breakfast for me too I'm just gonna grab a burrito at the mini-mart, see you later!" 

When Alfred threw open the door he almost ran head-first into one person he really did NOT want to see. 

Maximo Ramirez. 

On the other hand, the boy who lived next door seemed just as surprised to see Alfred there, hand paused as it was just about to knock. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Max asked, recovering first and giving Alfred a glare that could curdle milk.

"I live here, dickface." Alfred responded, matching Max's expression in kind. "What do you want?"

"Maximo? _Max!_ " Matthew to save the day, he shambled up to the door like a sleepy zombie, gently pushing Alfred out of the way and waving Max inside. "Come in, sorry, I just rolled out of bed..." He explained to the large Cuban boy, his smile relaxed. Of course, it became apologetic when he glanced over to his brother's very unhappy glare. "Max and I are reviewing for our science test today, Fred. I asked him to come over early." 

"Ugh, fine. Why you gotta be friends with such a dickbag, Mattie?" Alfred snorted, grabbing his hoodie and throwing it on. It seemed wise with how dark those clouds were looking. 

"What did you call me, Princess?!" Max yelled at Alfred, dropping his bag in the hall and turning to him. 

"DICKBAG. YOU ARE A BAG OF DICKS."

"YOU SON OF A-"

" _Bye Alfred see you at school walk safely!_ " And that was Matthew, shoving Alfred the few steps left out the door and practically slamming said door in his face before the fight could break out. It wouldn't be the first between Max and Alfred. 

Alfred huffed, looking at the closed door. 

"DICKBAG!" he yelled once more before turning and storming down the front steps and to the street to begin the walk to the convenience store on the way to school. 

It started raining halfway there, pouring in thick curtains of water. Even with the hoodie, Alfred was good and drenched by the time he made it to the mini-mart, a small lake forming around his feet as he dripped on the mat just inside the doors for a moment. First Max, then the rain, Alfred's good mood had slingshot back to bad. He was expecting the store to even be out of breakfast burritos, but fate threw him a bone. Several were just made, warm and fresh. He even grabbed earplugs for Matt anyway because he was such a damn good brother even if Matt had shitty taste in friends. Besides, Matt was so shy, it was probably hard for him to make friends. Yes, clearly, he was just friends with Max for lack of other options. Deciding on this reasoning, Alfred congratulated himself for being such a good and understanding brother, got an energy drink for the road and some candy for Kiku and headed back out to get to school.

Despite the rain Alfred had made such good time that he beat the buses in. Only a few students who had early meetings were there, as well as a handful of teachers - when Alfred saw Ivan's truck in the parking lot, an idea sprang to mind. An idea that quickly began to form into a plan. A plan with steps beyond 'kick in the door and improvise', even! He was pretty certain Kiku would be proud of his brilliance. Shoving the rest of his breakfast burrito into his mouth, Alfred high-tailed it to the locker room as quickly as he could. 

At least one teacher yelled at him to slow down as he darted through the halls, but Alfred only made a show of going half a step slower before running at top speed again as soon as he turned the corner. He slipped more than once but after briefly pinwheeling his arms as he slid out of control, canvas sneakers soaked through on the slippery linoleum floor, he always managed to regain his balance and just kept running. 

"Mister Braginsky!" Alfred called as he ran into the locker room, really hoping that's where the teacher was and not in some stupid dumb meeting. Luck was still in Alfred's favor, as lo and behold there was a very confused Ivan Braginsky stepping out of his small 'office'. He glanced at the clock, then back at Alfred.

"...Alfred, is there a reason you have run in here soaking wet and yelling at the top of your lungs? --- Why are you so often soaking wet?" Ivan added the last part as an afterthought, fetching a towel and throwing it at Alfred, who caught it with a grin.

"I am secretly part fish." Alfred said very seriously, tugging off his drenched hoodie and toweling off his hair as best he could. "I wanted to ask if you were planning on coming to homecoming next week!" 

"I was not planning on it, hockey is not one of the sports that I am coach of." Ivan said, crossing his arms and observing Alfred like he was trying to figure out what was wrong with a picture.

"Well, uh, you should! First, because as you know my brother is on that team and he kicks ass, and, like. You're Russian, right? Don't Russians love hockey almost as much as Canadians or something?" Alfred asked, peeking out from under the towel. Ivan appeared as though he remained unconvinced. 

"I am going to ignore the cultural ignorance you just displayed there and simply be flattered that you tried to understand someone who is not yourself." 

"Hey I can say that shit, technically I am part Canadian! Anyway you should also come because you're kinda like the new guy in town, and just about everyone is gonna be at homecoming. Most everyone's parents went to this school, and if you want to fit in then homecoming is a good place to start." And it would give Alfred more time to talk to Ivan, to get to know him. He could plan on playing the good host and point out who was who, becoming a valuable aid before the helpful relationship between them blossomed into love. The plan was iron-clad.

"Mmm. And what if I do not care about 'fitting in'?" Ivan asked, raising an eyebrow while his expression remained neutral. His poker-face was too good. It was okay, though, Alfred willed himself to not panic. He had a backup for this. 

"Well, that's cool if you don't, but... does your sister?" _Bingo._ Alfred thought. For just a second, there was a brief flash of emotion across Ivan's face. Guilt? Something strong and unpleasant, at least. "Katsu... uh... Katy? The one with the farm? Basically any family with a farm around here has either gone here or to South Shore. Maybe you could bring her along, she could get to know some of the locals too. You know... um. Just a thought."

Ivan's body language was far more critical than Alfred wanted or was necessary prepared for. He was studying Alfred, thinking over what he'd said. Did he hate Alfred for bringing up his sister? Did he silently agree and wonder how he could have under-estimated such a clearly brilliant mind? God damn it, it was impossible for Alfred to read him. 

"... I will speak to her about it and see what she thinks." Ivan said. "Do you not have classes to be getting to, Alfred?"

The first bell rang. 

"FUCK!" Alfred tossed the towel in a nearby hamper and grabbed his hoodie. His first class was on the other side of the building. "Motherfucking _fuck!_ " 

As he ran out the door, Ivan yelled after him.

" _LANGUAGE!_ " 

 

"Do you think he will come to homecoming?" Kiku asked after Alfred recounted the morning's meeting to him. The lunch room was crowded and loud as usual, allowing them their typical 'privacy through too much else going on'. 

"I think he will. If not for himself then for his sister, he seems like he cares a lot about her. And it would help 'em socialize and shit."

"Unless she has done that on her own, you realize." Kiku pointed out as he sorted out the Skittles that Alfred got him when he stopped by the store that morning. "Or does not like sports, or crowds."

"MY PLAN IS FLAWLESS." Alfred yelled. "NO MORE DISSENTION IN THE RANKS."

Kiku rolled his eyes. 

"Very well, your plan is flawless. All hail the chairman." 

"Bitches better recognize." Alfred nodded. That was when he caught sight of his brother coming into the lunch room, walking with Max as the two laughed about something. Alfred snapped his plastic fork in half. "Why does Mattie have to make friends with such an asshole?! I know he's shy, but it can't be THAT hard for him to make friends that he's got to resort to _him!_ " 

While Alfred bitched, Kiku watched Matt navigate the lunch room. Plenty of times he went unnoticed, to be certain, but the hockey team welcomed him over, and he seemed to have no shortage of friends. A stark difference when compared to Alfred, who had Kiku and just Kiku - and the Japanese-American boy knew for certain that when they were fighting, Alfred sat alone. High social standing did not mean friends.

"Enough about that guy though, so if Mister Braginsky's gonna be consistent about this answers-for-good-behavior thing, then I got two more questions to ask still. Help me come up with something really smart that will impress him." Alfred said, elbowing Kiku in the side to get his attention.

"Mm, tell me again what you were already planning on asking him?" Kiku shifted his attention to the window that showed the field - the rain hadn't let up all day, but that didn't stop the phys ed teacher from making students run laps. He was barking out orders even in the downpour. 

Alfred followed his line of sight, licking his lips at the very real image of the phys ed teacher with his shirt clinging to his skin in apparently all the right ways of Alfred's blush was any indication. It was actually making Kiku slightly uncomfortable with how overtly sexual it was, and he really had to wonder at the observation powers of Mister Braginsky if he wasn't aware of how Alfred thought of him by now. 

"Alfred?" Kiku prompted, which startled Al enough to remember the earlier question. 

"What- oh. Uh, what his last profession was. Before teaching." He explained, then recited everything he knew so far - including what he had overheard on Ivan's phone conversation with his sister.

Kiku nodded thoughtfully.

"If you haven't figured out how to write his name in Cyrillic, you could always have him write it for you. That way if there are alternate ways to spell it you could be certain you were using the correct way." he suggested. 

"... What if he asks why I want to know?" 

"Then you tell him your answers are not part of the deal, but you will happily provide one if he wants to tell you why he thinks he'll never marry." 

"Brilliant!" Alfred declared, hugging his friend. "... Wait, what if he does it?!"

"Then you tell him you're stalking him online, he probably won't believe you." Kiku said as he tried to pry Alfred off of him. As much as Alfred loved touching other people, Kiku was not a fan of being touched. 

"GREAT! What about the third question?" Alfred was excited enough that he let go after some gentle shoving on Kiku's part, allowing the boy to eat his skittles one color at a time. 

"Hmmm ... ask him when his birthday is." Kiku decided, nodding with certainty. Alfred was confused at the reasoning there.

"Dude, they tell us when teachers birthday's are, usually over the PA." 

"They tell us _the day of._ So all we know is it hasn't passed yet. If you want to do something nice for him, this way you'll know ahead of time." Also, Kiku knew any information Alfred gained would be shared with him, and he was very curious to find out if Mister Braginsky was, in fact, old enough to be Alfred's father. 

The cacophony of the cafeteria peaked at an all-time high as the doors flew open harder than necessary thanks to the wind urging them forward. The students previously out in the field filed in, wet and miserable, and at the tail end of that procession was Ivan Braginsky himself. He was breathing only slightly harder than normal, every muscle perfectly outlined by the shirt that clung to him like a second skin. 

Any response Alfred was going to come up with to Kiku's comment died in his throat as his eyes were clearly drawn to the tall man across the room, just as full of need and desire as before. 

As Kiku watched, Ivan scanned the room - for what, he didn't know, but what he found was their table. Even in the crowded lunch room, it was clear that he saw Alfred, that he _recognized_ Alfred. Kiku kept himself calm, kept himself from displaying any emotion or even showing obviously that he was paying attention to this silent exchange. 

After a few seconds, Ivan looked away, attention diverted back to whatever he was looking for before. Kiku had no doubt that Alfred saw nothing aside from that Ivan noticed him. Alfred was a sweet boy, but his ability to read others was second only to his self-awareness. In other words, an absolute zero. Which was alright most of the time, because Kiku was excellent at reading others and wordlessly guided Alfred through any social interaction that they were both present for. 

While Alfred was fretting over if Ivan had actually even saw him or was looking past him or not, Kiku had other concerns. Mainly, one very large concern. The way Ivan was looking at Alfred... well, that answered Kiku's earlier question in regards to Alfred's overt affection for the gym teacher. 

_He **knows.**_


	7. "I love this song."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiku does his own investigation and Alfred has another detention with Ivan.

While Alfred sat wondering if Ivan Braginsky had even noticed him or was just looking past him, Kiku was trying to plan. 

He had been banking on Alfred's crush remaining just that - Alfred would obsess for a little while then his attention would skip to the next new shiny that caught his eye. Ivan Braginsky was, all things considered, a _safe_ bet originally. There was no way anything would happen and Kiku wouldn't have to worry about his friend being hurt again like he had been with Julie. Ivan Braginsky ever becoming aware of said obsession was NOT part of the plan.

Kiku could deal with this, however. He was adaptable.

"Tell me how detention goes?" Kiku asked, shoving the last of his red and yellow skittles into his empty lunch box for later. "Should I wait for you? The storm is supposed to last all day and it looks like you did not bring an umbrella."

"Nah," Alfred said with a grin. "Maybe I can get a ride with Mister Braginsky again. I have this new fantasy where we're in his truck and-"

"I will take your word for it." Kiku interrupted with a thin but polite smile. "I need to speak with some teachers before class." 

That one heated glance across the lunch room told Kiku for certain that Ivan was aware of Alfred's interest. Now he needed to find out where Ivan stood on the matter. 

He left, taking the long way around to Ivan's office so that Alfred did not see where he was going.

 

Students were passing to and fro - it would have been hard to navigate the sea of boys roughhousing as they tried to dry off and re-dress as quickly as possible, but Kiku had experience. Experience and the added fortification that no one was wanting to fuck with Alfred Kirkland's best friend since the last person that tried ended up with a broken arm. Those that did notice Kiku stopped before bumping into him, letting him pass through the otherwise labyrinth of bodies unmolested as he made his way to the closed door of mister Braginsky's office.

Kiku knocked, straining to hear any sounds from within over the din of the school's ambient noise. Rustling of papers, rattling of... something?

"Come in."

Kiku pushed the door open instantly, quickly scanning the room as though it was a crime scene that was going to be destroyed by the rain any moment. 

Braginsky was putting something in his desk, that was the rattling. Bright orange - pill bottle? Papers, those were class reviews. Max's was on top. 'Works hard and performs well but gets distracted by friends easily, especially Matthew Kirkland.' An overall positive review with a few places for improvement. Few personal touches to the room though everything was kept in meticulous order, which spoke volumes as to what the person occupying thought of the space. The desk had an off-color panel near the bottom - the school would have just chucked it and bought a new (cheap) one, so Ivan had clearly done the repairs himself. His clothing was plain and nondescript without logo, and while the duffel bag shoved under his desk and just barely visible looked very plain as well Kiku could see it was brand-name. He knew they sold it at R.E.I. and it wasn't cheap, ranked high for durability and versatility. _Function over form_ was practically written all over Ivan Braginsky. Kiku mentally cataloged this all along with things he had already noticed about Braginsky when Alfred first started talking about making good on his fantasy of doing the teacher. Things he doubted Alfred would notice - for all the staring he did, he missed the trees for the forest. Kiku doubted he noticed Ivan's barely discernible limp favoring his right side (worse on cold days, not present most of the time on warm ones) or his habit of wearing high collars or scarves - and the exceptionally faint strip of paler skin around his neck when he did not.

"Can I help you?" Ivan was giving Kiku a very measured look. He had noticed Kiku's noticing.

Kiku smiled, thin and polite.

"I apologize for barging in when you no doubt have important things to be getting to, sir, so I will try to be quick. I am Alfred Kirkland's friend."

"Ah - Honda Kiku, correct?" Ivan's accent, while rather thick when it came to English, had very good pronunciation of Kiku's name. Kiku had completed all his required phys ed classes as quickly as possible, so he did not have any classes with Ivan and had not noticed that until now. Coupled with how he said Kiku's name...

" _Sensei, nihongo ha hanashimasu ka?_ " Kiku asked. He got a blank stare in reply. 

"Sorry, I'm not familiar with Japanese, I just know a little Chinese - not to imply the two are the same, of course." Ivan said, nodding to the chair in his office. "Please, sit down, what can I help you with Mister Honda?" 

Kiku gave the same thin but polite smile and sat down while Ivan changed out of his soaking wet shirt. It was yet another time that just drove in the fact that if Kiku was interested in men, he had no interest in 'manly' men. Ivan's physique was not chiseled like a bodybuilder, but the mix of muscle and a bit of fat that came with someone who got muscle from actually working and needing it - someone who had muscles for use rather than show.

He mentally checked off Alfred's earlier statement about truck-lifting ability. Perhaps Alfred wasn't _completely_ unobservant. 

"Ah, Alfred and I were just talking in the lunch room, and he mentioned that you were 'on the fence' so to speak about attending homecoming and that he had personally asked that you attend." Kiku said carefully. Faint confusing at 'talking in the lunch room', Braginsky had noticed Alfred for certain but not Kiku - only a quick flash before back to the stony impassive expression. Conflicted about what Alfred had asked him, and likely why.

"He did." Ivan said, keeping his voice neutral and without inflection. He was good, he had practice hiding his thoughts and feelings, no wonder Alfred was so confused. He already had trouble when things weren't spelled out to him, someone who was actively repressing his feelings was completely out of his area. Kiku made the mental note to not be as hard on Alfred about it. Maybe there _was_ something to the KGB rumors. "I suppose you're here to either agree or disagree with him?"

"Well, Alfred is my best friend. He cares very much about others even if he has ... unusual ways of going about it sometimes." Conflict again and now doubt - _'Was Alfred just this friendly with everyone?'_ had he perhaps misread the signs? "He admires you quite a bit, there aren't many teachers that can motivate him so easily. I know it would mean a lot to him personally if you were there." 

Alfred had tried to convince Ivan to come under the guise of doing something nice for _Ivan._ Kiku presented it as Ivan doing something nice for _Alfred._

If this was a poker game, Kiku was calling. 

"I will keep that in mind." Ivan had to debate whether to risk it or fold. Kiku nodded with another smile.

"That's all I ask. Thank you, sir. ... Best not mention I asked for him, though. He'd be very embarrassed I am sure." 

"Far be it for me to create conflict between two friends. Thank you for the visit, Mister Honda."

Kiku left to his next class, even more unhappy than he had been before speaking with Ivan. Alfred's feelings were not a surprise - he had known before today, and while he did not seem _particularly_ receptive to them he also wasn't clearly directly opposed to them. Kiku hoped that destroying the teacher's reputation was not necessary to protect Alfred. He'd feel quite bad about it. 

... But if that's what he had to do to protect Alfred, he wouldn't hesitate. Alfred was his best friend, and Braginsky was a stranger. 

 

Like the day before, Alfred was so excited for detention he bolted out of his last class the instant the bell had sounded. There was no sneaking up on a phone conversation of Braginsky's this time, he ran into Alfred halfway to the gym as he was leaving the main office - again, almost literally. 

"H-Hey!" Alfred tried to not show how excited he was, to dampen his nervous energy. Ivan raised an eyebrow but otherwise kept his expression blank as he stood there for a moment, holding several manilla folders in one arm. He had unfortunately changed into a dry shirt in the meantime. Alfred wanted to see that bare chest, god damn it.

"No running in the halls, Mister Kirkland." Ivan said, turning and walking to the gym at a leisurely pace as the students began to file out of classrooms and crowd the halls. 

Alfred chased after Ivan. 

"Sorry, just - uh, wanted to miss the rush!" he claimed. God, his tongue felt like lead when he was talking to Ivan Braginsky. _Look at me, just look at me._ Alfred wanted to beg, but Ivan kept looking straight ahead as they walked, and Alfred had too much pride.

"Mmm. Your dedication to detention is admirable, I can only hope I get a more favorable report from the teacher running it next Monday. I heard today you skipped out early." Ivan didn't sound pleased or displeased. The sea of students parted for the two of them like some overly religious metaphor. 

"Ahhhh yeaaah well I wanted to spend time with my brother or... something."

"Or something?"

"Dude okay I'm not even sure how I actually managed that one." Alfred tried a grin. He was cute, right? Cute enough to get out of trouble?

Ivan wasn't smiling, or even looking at him. 

"We were going to be working out in the field today but the rain has kept that from being feasible. Instead, we shall work on the locker room." Ivan said instead.

"The locker room?! Cleaning again?! Dude, that place is DISGUSTING-"

"Then I suppose you will have your work cut out for you, do you have an 'elsewhere to be'?" 

Alfred sighed.

"Point taken."

 

Alfred changed into his gym clothes once they made it to the locker room, thoug Ivan was gone before he even got his shirt off. He reflected that he'd probably have to start washing them every day if he was going to be doing hard labor in them like this, otherwise they'd quickly take on the overpowering smell of Teenage Boy. He didn't mind that normally, but alone with Ivan and he was suddenly concerned about such things. He kind of liked Man-Smell to be honest, but he knew he was pretty weird and definitely not 'Glee-Club Gay'.

`'How am I supposed to seduce him if he won't watch me undress?'` Alfred texted Kiku as he pulled his shorts and shirt on, getting a response within seconds. 

`'You will have to dazzle him with your knowledge of the USS Enterprise.'`

Alfred grinned, sliding his phone case closed and shoving it into his locker. Braginsky was staunchly anti-cellphone.

"Mister Kirkland?" 

Sure, now that he was redressed, Ivan came back in. 

" _Constitution_ class, registry: NCC-1701?" Alfred replied. 

"...What?"

"Nothing, it was worth a shot. Where do we start?"

Though Ivan was looking at Alfred like he had suddenly grown a second head and his words may as well have been Greek for all Ivan seemed to understand him (did the Greeks have the phrase 'It's all Greek to me?' - he had to look that up now) he seemed content enough to pass off Alfred's oddities as his standard strange behavior. 

"We will start by cleaning the showers first, after that we will get to mopping the rest of the room and see how much time we have left when that is completed." Mister Braginsky said, passing Alfred one of two buckets full of cleaning supplies he had been holding. 

"Right... At least there's gloves. Hey, can we listen to the radio? It was silent as a grave last time, creepy creepy." Also it ended up with him getting very personal in a distinctly non-sexy way. Ivan Braginsky actually _chuckled_ as he headed into he showers with Alfred, getting to cleaning. 

"Does silence bother you so much, Mister Kirkland?" Ivan asked without looking back. Alfred scratched the back of his head then shrugged, grabbing the gloves in his bucket.

"A little bit, I guess- hey I'm the one asking questions here. You haven't told me yet what your last profession was." 

"So I have not." Ivan said smoothly. _That_ was when he glanced over his shoulder to Alfred. "I will answer your question then you may fetch the radio, then you will work. Is that acceptable?" 

"Do I have much of a choice if it isn't?" 

"Not really." Ivan smiled. 

"Alright, alright. Questions though. Plural, I got three last time I should get three this time." Alfred felt the adrenaline pumping in his veins as he spoke the words, hitting his blood stream and making him hyper alert, as if he was getting ready for a fight. He was just so anxious it was hard to focus on _anything._

"Ah. Very well." Ivan put the spray bottle down and tugged his gloves off, crossing his arms across his chest as he gave Alfred his full attention. Somehow that was so much worse and so much better than being mostly ignored. Ivan had this way of not blinking near enough. 

"Uh. So. What was your last profession?" Alfred felt like an idiot asking these questions all of a sudden. What kind of moron interviews their foreign teacher just because they wanted in his pants? It was crazy! 

Ivan was crazy _hot_ though. 

His arms were kinda flexing just right with how they were crossed over his chest and any self-consciousness left Alfred's head instantly in the wake of the thought regarding _truck-lifting_ ability. Did the Soviets ever have a Superman? There was Colossus in X-Men but Alfred's brain wasn't functioning well enough to properly answer his own question beyond that.

"I was a performer." Ivan answered after a long pause, as if having to decide how to word it precisely to answer the question but still give away as little as possible. It was actually... surprising. That must have shown on Alfred's face, because Ivan laughed at him. "Is that so shocking?" 

"You just don't seem - what kind of performer?"

"Is that your second question?"

_Fuck!_ He already had the next two planned out, and if he could get answers to those he could possibly not need to ask for clarification. But Alfred wanted to know so badly. _Pace yourself,_ he told himself, then shook his head.

"Nah, sorry. ... When's your birthday?"

Ivan raised an eyebrow, seeming to debate whether or not to answer or to ask why Alfred wanted to know. 

"December Thirtieth, Nineteen-seventy-four." 

"Nineteen-seventy-four, so you would be..." Alfred tried to do the math in his head but was cut off.

"Thirty-nine this coming December." 

Alfred wasn't good with ages. Everyone out of high school was just 'An adult' until they got wrinkles and white hair and started hiking their pants up to their armpits and then they became 'grandparent age', so he didn't really think anything of the answer aside from repeating it in his head about fifty times to commit it to memory and plan to think of something awesome to do for Ivan. 

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Alright, last question for today - ... how do you spell your name?"

Ivan's brow creased as he tried to figure out what Alfred's angle was. 

"I-V-A-"

"No no no, I mean, in like... Russian. Here." Alfred tugged his gloves off quickly and grabbed his notebook and pen from his bag, flipping to the back page where notes like phone numbers and dates were written down so they didn't get lost among his school notes. He offered both to Ivan, tried to stomp down his own hopeful expression.

"Why do you want to know?"

"We didn't make a deal about MY answers, I get a free fourth question if you want to know." 

For a brief moment it looked as though Ivan was going to take Alfred up on that anyway. But then he just shook his head and took the notebook and pen from Alfred, writing the letters in precise, firm strokes. Alfred tried not to think of awful things with how he held the chewed up pen. 

When the older man handed the paper back, Alfred looked it over as if he could somehow read the foreign characters. 

" _Neah?_ " Alfred asked incredulously. Ivan laughed at that - a deep, honest laugh that warmed Alfred all over. "What's so funny?"

" _Nyet, nyet-_ " Ivan shook his head and tried to stifle his laughter. "That is the Cyrillic."

"So that's how you spell 'Ivan'?" Alfred asked, hoping he was being subtle as he circled the name. 

"ee- _VAHN._ "

"What?" 

"EYE-vahn is the English way, ee-VAHN is the Russian."

Somehow during their talk, Alfred had unconsciously moved closer - or perhaps he just never moved back after passing over the notebook. Either way he was totally within violation of standard Dude Personal Space code. 

" _ee-Vahn. Ivan._ " Alfred repeated, in order to remember. This close, he could see how violet Ivan's eyes were. From a distance they just looked dark blue, but they were definitely violet - like Morpho wings if they were purple instead of the iridescent reflection of blue and green, that ultra-saturation of color that existed nowhere else in nature. Like some beautiful and symbolically relevant flower that Alfred couldn't think of because he slept through most class discussions on symbolism in literature and right now all he wanted to do was drown in Ivan's gaze anyway. 

" _Ochen khorosho._ " Alfred had no idea what Ivan had just said, but his voice was a pleased rumble that did awful things to Alfred's insides. 

There was a long moment of silence. If it was a movie, this would be where Ivan would kiss him, surely.

But instead he just turned away and said "Radio is in the office, quickly now, get back to work."

Any moment they'd had was gone. Alfred ducked his head down and went to fetch the small radio, black and boxy and probably new in the early nineties. The most advanced tech on it was a casette tape deck.

"Retro." Alfred said, setting it down on the tile and switching it on. It only got decent reception on one station in the locker room since the station itself was only a mile or two out from the school itself, but that was okay since Alfred actually liked the station. 'Oldies.' It was a little ironic. 

Ivan rolled his eyes at the statement that the radio was 'retro', but at least Alfred didn't protest with the music going. He figured since Ivan let it be that there were worse things than listening to American pop music from the 80's and 90's. 

The showers were almost entirely clean when a familiar song came on, and Alfred couldn't help but sing along. 

_"There'll be no strings to bind your hands, not if my love can't bind your heart."_ Alfred sang while he scrubbed at a particularly bad mildew spot. _"And there's no need to take a stand, for it was I who chose to start."_

He sang all the way through the first refrain of the chorus before he noticed Ivan had stopped scrubbing and was giving Alfred a curious look now. 

"...What?" Alfred asked. "I love this song."

"That song came out before you were born." Ivan said with a snort.

"Okay _this_ cover of it by the Pretenders, yes." Alfred agreed with a grin. "But the original version came out in the late nineteen sixties - it's older than you too."

Ivan smiled. God that smile went right to Alfred's crotch. "Point taken."

"My dad loved the song." Alfred explained without being asked, standing and going over to where the bucket was to rinse out his sponge. "When my brother and I were little he said it was my mom's favorite song, but when it came on the radio and I asked her about it she just said that she liked it well enough. So I think it was my dad's favorite song and he was just embarrassed." The water spilled a little as he rinsed it out, but Alfred had kind of made a mess while cleaning anyway so he wasn't really worried. It was a shower, it'd go down the drain and at least the water was clean. "Which is kinda funny, don't you think? It's-"

" _Ostorozhno!_ "

Alfred had stepped in a small puddle of water - one that he had stepped in on the way over to the bucket in the first place, but this time his sneaker hit it at just the right angle and slipped right out from under him. A second later his arms were pinwheeling and he was in free fall. A second after that he fell against something solid, but not the tile. 

Mister Braginsky was holding him close and safe, one arm wrapped around Alfred's waist as he held the boy against his chest. 

"Be careful, child!" Ivan chided, his breathing was rapid, probably from the quick adrenaline spike that had him across the room so quickly so that he could catch Alfred before his fall. It might have just been a twisted ankle and a bruise, but it could have also been a cracked skull. Alfred knew it could have just been from lawsuit issues, but he wanted to believe he heard real concern (and anger) in Ivan's voice. 

Alfred craned his neck back to look up. Ivan was still holding him close - closer now than he had ever been to the other man before. Being held against him felt even better in reality than it did in Alfred's fantasies, but -

"...What's with that pale mark on your neck?" Alfred's horrific word-vomiting illness was making another comeback. The mood was killed so quickly it almost gave Alfred whiplash. 

Ivan pushed Alfred to his feet, switched off the radio, pointed to the door and said " _Out._ "

Alfred stared. 

"But we aren't done-"

" _ **OUT!**_ "

Alfred threw the sponge back into the bucket, grabbed his backpack and ran. It was still pouring down rain and he was still in his gym clothes, but running had always been Alfred's go-to stress reliever aside from masturbating and violent video games, both of which were unavailable to him at that exact moment in time. His chest felt tight in a way he couldn't quite describe - worse than when Julie had told him it wasn't working and they had to break up. Julie was entirely different than Ivan - Julie was soft and sweet and she knew the class and registry for the Enterprise starships (all the way up through _D!_ ) and when she was around he had felt like he really was all the amazing things he said he was... except he hadn't even noticed she was in pain when she had needed him most, pain that he was inadvertently helping cause. 

Ivan Braginsky on the other hand... he was different. 'Mysterious and reassuring', he would definitely be in that category. Alfred just couldn't get his shit together around Mister Braginsky. He was never so upset as when the Russian Phys-Ed teacher was around... but he was also never so excited, either. And somehow through all of it Alfred couldn't help but feel like if Ivan was around, things would be okay. 

Now was one of the upset and nervous times, though. His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. He didn't stop for anything on his way home, running all the way and taking the steps two to three at a time up to the front door, shoving it open and collapsing on the hardwood of the hallway just inside. He laid on his back there, dripping a steady puddle that he'd have to clean up as soon as he could stand, soaked down to the bone and lungs burning so hard it felt like he was breathing fire. His glasses fogged instantly, he yanked them off and tossed them into the carpeted area of the living room, staying just inside the doorway for several minutes until he found the strength to stand once more. 

Alfred thought to himself that he really needed to stop shooting into a run without a warm-up first. 

"M'home!" he called, his voice cracking. There was no answer. Matt was probably over visiting their neighbors since the door _was_ unlocked. The smell of hot food wafted out from the kitchen, but Alfred for once didn't have an apatite. With great difficulty he stood, grabbed the mop from the hall closet and cleaned up Lake Kirkland as quick as he could, then promptly left said mop by the door. He'd get it later. He needed to change out of his wet clothes right then. 

So caught up in his routine, an hour had already passed before Alfred (one hot shower and set of pajamas later) noticed his notebook on the floor of his room. It had spilled from his bag when he'd tossed it into the chaos without thinking. 

The notebook.

Mister Braginsky's name. 

It was a long shot, but Alfred snatched the notebook anyway, flipping to the last page and firing up Google and the keyboard for special characters. It would have been easier if he knew any language at all that used Cyrillic, but the best he had was two years of Spanish so it would look good on his University application and a few words in French thanks to Matthew. He went with Google first, figuring he'd try the other search engines in order of helpfulness after that.

The results made his mouth go dry.

`--- StarfleetJedi has logged on. --- `

`StarfleetJedi: Kiku, you there or idle?`

``

`1to1ModelZaku: I am here. `

`StarfleetJedi: Okay I will fill you in on my USTful Detention Session in a minute or two here, got more important business to attend to first.`

`1to1ModelZaku: ???`

`StarfleetJedi: I got Ivan's name down in Russian and tried searching for THAT instead.`

`StarfleetJedi: Well, it was a good fucking idea, something that shouldn't have surprised anyone since it came from you.`

`1to1ModelZaku: You found something?`

`StarfleetJedi: Dude's on fucking wikipedia.`


	8. "He's actually older than your father."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's e-stalking yields more questions than answers. Matt worries about his brother.

There wasn't an article on Ivan himself (that had the red link of 'do you want to add something?'), but he was mentioned for one on this _Kirov Ballet_ , and with some further searching as he branched out from there was finally able to hit a jackpot on an archived newspaper from Saint Petersburg, translated to English (Oh Google, what couldn't you do? Proper syntax in some cases, apparently, as Alfred still had to do some manual translation with some of the sentence structure and words). 

He shot the link to the article off to Kiku while he read.

Ivan Braginsky (age nineteen in '93) had graduated top of his class from a prestigious ballet academy in Saint Petersburg despite facing quite a few hardships (apparently low on the economic ladder, though what that meant during the end of the Cold War Alfred had no idea) and was accepted into Kirov Ballet (Which apparently meant the Mariinsky Ballet which was apparently a Big Fucking Deal). He was only able to perform for one year, however, as a traffic accident lead to a concussion and a broken hip. While doctors insisted that he was lucky in that he managed to avoid more serious injury (the other occupant, apparently a family member, had died in the crash) and would eventually be able to walk again. 

... Dancing, however...

Alfred felt sick inside. It made sense, why Ivan was so angry at him for 'wasting his talent'. He had worked so hard for one goal, achieved it, then had it suddenly and irrevocably taken from him in a situation entirely out of his control. 

On Skype with Alfred now, Kiku called his friend's name to get his attention. 

"Alfred? It looks like _Piter_ is generally what residents call Saint Petersburg. So whoever he was talking about..."

"He was talking about not going home." Alfred finished Kiku's thought aloud. There was no news regarding Ivan past early 1994, with the note that his recovery was, all things considered, going well and that his sisters declined to comment. He had struggled, lived, and lost a whole life before Alfred himself was even _born_... The idea was discomforting. Alfred was still very new to the idea that people's lives occurred when he wasn't around. Kiku called it the Scott Pilgrim Effect. 

"You said he was born in seventy-four?" Kiku asked, Alfred could see him on the video chat screen pulling a notebook over. 

"Yeah, December thirtieth."

"He's actually _older_ than your father - your dad is turned thirty-six this year." Kiku replied, looking up at Alfred through the webcam, one eyebrow raised. 

Alfred hummed thoughtfully.

"You think he'd find that a turn-off?" he asked. HE didn't find it to be one, in any case. Kiku repressed a groan.

"How did I know you'd say that?" 

Alfred grinned. He told Kiku about his detention in as much detail as he could - which involved far more elaboration on how Ivan felt pressed against Alfred's back than Kiku really wanted - and ended with Ivan's angrily telling him to get out.

"I'd never noticed the mark on his neck before, do you think he got it from the car accident?" Alfred asked, tapping his pencil against his desk as he started at the screen, rereading the article for any hints he may not have noticed before. 

"Perhaps, there was the mention of a concussion." Kiku said, though there was something in his voice that hinted to Alfred he didn't believe that statement at all. "It would explain his limp, though."

"He has a limp?!" 

"Yes, Alfred. When it's cold he favors one of his legs slightly."

"HOW COULD I NOT NOTICE THAT?!" Alfred yelled, slamming his fist onto his desk. Kiku flinched at the sound.

"You are rather preoccupied with his upper-half, that could be it."

 

Alfred called it a night after a few more rounds of TF2 with Kiku, about the time he realized that he had history tomorrow and had been completely ignoring it all week in favor of obsessing over Ivan Braginsky. He spent the rest of the night swearing and pouring over his books in hopes of not failing the pop quiz that would no doubt be occurring (the less prepared you are, the more likely one is to happen) which was completely ass because History was one of his worse subjects. He was only broken out of his study trance a few hours later from the sounds of his brother coming back inside the house, talking with someone else who Alfred couldn't identify by voice alone. 

Then there was a shout and a sudden crash. Alfred was on his feet in an instant, running halfway down the stairs to see Matthew sprawled on his back in the hallway, the spiky haired blond from before on top of him. The mop was laying on the floor. 

Right, he was going to get that. 

Instead of yelling, both Matt and the other guy (Tim? Wasn't that what Matt called him?) laughed, faces flushed from having just come in from the cold. 

"... So I guess you two are okay?" Alfred called down. Matthew let out a startled squeak and tilted his head back to see Alfred halfway up the staircase. "

"Fred! I-I didn't think you'd be home so early!" Matthew said with a bit of a stammer. Tim silently moved to stand, holding up a hand to help Matthew up as well. 

"Yeah. ... Shit came up. Homework, y'know. ... Practicing?" Alfred nodded in the direction of Matt's friend on the hockey team. Matthew laughed, taking the hand up and standing. He grabbed the mop and gave it a curious look but didn't ask Alfred anything, thank goodness. 

"Yes. We were discussing some strategies. Tim was captain of his hockey team at his last school." Matthew was the captain of theirs, Alfred had to wonder if that was one of the reasons why it was so invisible a lot of the time. Spill off from Matthew's bad luck. "So he's looking over the plays I've come up with to see where the holes in them are."

Tim laughed, blushing at Matthew's words. 

"Ah, not that I can be much assistance, Matthew is a brilliant tactician. _I'm_ learning from _him._ "

Matt elbowed Tim lightly in the stomach. Alfred rolled his eyes. 

"Whatever dudes, I'm studying. Nice to meet you or whatever - good luck with the planning." He gave them both a mock-salute and headed back up the stairs, seeing that his brother and the other guy weren't hurt from their fall. 

"Good luck with the studying!" Matthew called up after him. 

It seemed like it was no time at all before there was a soft knock at Alfred's bedroom door signaling that Matthew was on the other side. He was taking a break from studying to work out some energy with a couple dozen sit-ups while he watched old episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer streaming on his desktop. A glance to the clock on his computer showed that it had only been just shy of two hours. 

"Come in, it's open!" Alfred called, sitting up and stretching his neck from side to side. Matthew pushed open the door gently, balancing a plate piled high of mashed potatoes and Rice-A-Roni and some cut vegetables. 

"H-hey! I made dinner, figured I'd bring you a plate." Matthew said, and Alfred's stomach growled in response. 

"You're a life saver, Bro. How goes the planning?" he asked, reaching to take the plate from Matthew and setting it on his computer desk among the rest of the clutter. 

"Great! Tim is really brilliant, we're making a lot of progress. I called dad and got permission for him to spend the night so we can leave the weekend free for some last-minute drills, so, ah-"

"Keep it down if I've gotta keep my hands to myself?"

Matt turned a shade of red that was so bright it looked day-glow.

"Fred! I wasn't gonna _say_ that-"

"But you were gonna mean it. No problem anyway, I'm probably gonna call it an early night soon, anyway."

Matthew's brow creased with worry that he didn't bother trying to hide.

"You've been doing that a lot lately... sleeping, that is. Are you okay, Freddy?"

Alfred shook his head, he couldn't explain his hopeless addiction to a certain Phys Ed teacher who would barely give him the time of day, or the recent uncomfortable personal truths he figured out. 

"I've just got a lot on my mind lately, don't worry about it."

Matthew hesitated, but nodded.

"Are you going to come to the homecoming game? If Mister Braginsky doesn't keep you until midnight with detention anyway."

Alfred wanted to kick himself. What kind of shitty brother was he if Matthew had to ask that? He put on a grin.

"Are you kidding? No power in the 'verse cold keep me away. I... I think dad might show up too!" He wanted to throw in something about hearing their father mention it, but they both knew that it was once in a blue moon that Alfred even _saw_ Arthur, and that time had been last weekend. Their next encounter probably wouldn't be for another month and a half, otherwise the universe might implode. 

Matthew's smile was a bit strained. 

"Ah, well, that would certainly be nice, eh?" _But I won't hold my breath._ went unsaid between them. 

 

Alfred's dreams were restless, not that he could ever remember them. Morning brought the most vivid memory of standing in some colonial harbor, like in that historical fort he and Matthew visited when they were kids, watching a beautifully gilded ship flying the banners of Imperial Russia. 

He was in so much pain. More pain than he'd ever felt in his life. It felt like he was literally trying to split in two. He was dressed in the utilitarian fashion of the times. Poor but managing. Down but not out. His own white shirt went from off-white to pink to deep rusty brown-red depending on what part of it you were looking at. 

Blood. His shirt was stained with blood. His blood.

But it was alright because the ships were coming. 

The sounds of them docking were like the trumpets of a fleet of angels, and the man that stepped off the boat more beautiful than anyone Alfred had seen before in the whole of his life. 

He didn't even look _real,_ his uniform was perfect, he looked like he was carved from the ice and snow itself. Alfred squinted against the sunlight to try and make out the features.

It was Mister Braginsky.

It had been him all along, he was coming to save Alfred.

Within minutes of waking Alfred's dream had faded to flashes of images without context, then ships and snow, then just the feeling of pain followed by relief.

His face felt sore.

Alfred looked down and saw that he had fallen asleep on his American History textbook as he'd tried to get some last minute studying in. He was open to the page explaining how Imperial Russia had docked its ships in Union harbors during the civil war, and while the Union had assumed this was a show of support out of the blue in truth Russia was simply 'holding' the ships there in case they needed them for a war with the British Empire, as Russian harbors would freeze the ships in place. 

Alfred wondered when the truth had come to light. He hoped it was least a few decades later, it would seem so cruel to reveal what would seem like a huge betrayal to the people who thought they had an ally coming to their rescue.

He didn't bother looking out to the driveway as he got up, light was filtering in through his drawn curtains, that meant his dad wasn't home. Alfred thought nothing at all of making his way down the stairs in just his boxers and a thin tank top. When he saw the red plaid sleeping pants he muttered "Mattie?" then realized, nope, that wasn't Matthew.

Tim was apparently a morning person. And wearing Matthew's pajamas (no shit, he would have had to borrow some) and although it was easy to overlook Matthew was actually as cut as his brother was so the flannel was only slightly too tight on the taller boy. He looked different with his hair down and ungelled, and with Alfred's poor eyesight thanks to his glasses still being somewhere on his dresser back upstairs, well. It was a fucking easy mistake to make. Light-colored human shaped blobs.

"Sorry." Tim said gruffly, "Getting up at six-thirty is 'sleeping in' for me. Career military family." He at least had the good graces to pour a second cup of orange juice and hold it out to Alfred. He must have had experience with Matthew without his glasses on because he made sure to hold it close enough for Alfred to take it easily and the two brothers had the same prescription. 

"Thanks, dude." Alfred muttered, taking the glass and sipping the orange juice. It wasn't the same as an energy drink but it was better than nothing and probably healthier. Was it six thirty? Fuck that was early. No wonder Matt wasn't around. Matt usually woke up at about 7, while Alfred slept in until twenty minutes before he had to be _at_ school, rolled out of bed, got dressed and hit the road. 

The silence that followed felt oppressive for Alfred. He hated silence. He also sucked at reading people even when his eyesight was aided and now he had his shit-poor nearsightedness to deal with as well. 

" _Christ_ I could use a smoke right now." Tim muttered quietly, breaking the silence. Alfred found himself replying before he even processed the other boy's words.

"Matches'r in the drawer under the silverware."

There was movement in his peripheral but Alfred couldn't make out enough fine detail to tell if Tim was staring at him or not. He avoided squinting like an idiot and just sipped his juice like he hadn't said anything. 

He could hear Tim setting the glass down on the counter and leaving the kitchen, only to return a second later tapping a pack of cigarettes against his palm.

"... You sure your dad won't get Matt or you in trouble?" Tim asked. It was kind of funny. 'Matt or you', not 'you or Matt'. Only Max made that distinction in that way. Alfred shook his head.

"He won't even notice, probably. Just don't burn the house down." 

Matt would probably complain about the smell, he usually did when it came to cigarette smoke. When Tim couldn't find the matches, Alfred found the box for him. With two nearsighted sons, Arthur was not in the habit of rearranging anything ever. Alfred figured he could probably go completely blind and still be able to find his way around the house without any trouble. 

The match flared to life against the textured edge of the box when struck. Tim held the cigarette between his lips, trusting Alfred not to burn his fucking face off when he lit the cancer stick for slightly taller boy. Alfred had just been assuming Tim was a senior, but it occurred to him then that he really didn't know if Tim was actually of legal smoking age. It was quickly followed by remembering he didn't give a fuck. 

Alfred breathed in the smell and imagined it was Ivan standing so close to him in his kitchen instead.

"Thanks." Tim murmured, voice breaking the illusion. Alfred nodded, tossing the matches back into the drawer. He finished his juice quickly. 

"Gonna go catch another hour of sleep." He lied easily. Tim just nodded - enough that Alfred could recognize the moment even if the details were a blur. 

Alfred took a few deep breaths, he hated the smell of cigarette smoke for a long time, but ever since he started associating it with Ivan...

It was a struggle to not just run back upstairs, to take things at a tired and leisurely pace. 

He closed his door, hopped into bed, and bit his pillow to muffle any sounds he was making while he beat off hard and fast to the imagery of being fucked against the kitchen counter by Ivan Braginsky while the larger man enjoyed a morning cigarette. 

It was going to be a long rest of the week until his next detention.


	9. "Why are you being so nice?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred gets sick, Ivan shows his soft side, one of Ivan's sisters makes an appearance and the anticipated hockey game begins.

The next two days held so little interest to Alfred that it seemed like he'd woken up Thursday morning and it was already after school on Friday. It wasn't, of course, but Thursday and Friday were a blur of social maintenance, schoolwork, and video games with Kiku when he had the time. Alfred barely saw Matt, every minute of every day that wasn't occupied by school was devoted to hockey practice. If they could win the homecoming game on Tuesday night that would mean an incredible jump in popularity and social standing for the team - especially for Matthew as the captain. 

Alfred was not even aware he was in a trance until Ivan broke him out of it on Friday afternoon. 

"Mister Kirkland?" 

For once Alfred managed to avoid crashing into the teacher when Mister Braginsky stepped into his path in the hallway after school. It was crowded in the halls, but no one - not even other teachers - wanted to yell at Braginsky for stopping in the hall during passing periods.

They hadn't spoken since Ivan had ordered Alfred out of detention for asking about his neck. Alfred just didn't know what to say - now that he knew (sort of) he couldn't stop staring at it, or the hip that was causing Ivan pain. Now it was clear as day - it had been raining nonstop since the storm had started and the windchill was even worse. Just as summer had held on late, winter had struck with a vengance as if attempting to remind their region that it was still a force to be reckoned with.

That also meant that Braginsky had been wearing a scarf lately, Alfred had to wonder if his question had anything to do with that wardrobe add-on.

"Uh, yeah?" Alfred asked, straightening the shoulder strap on his backpack and drawing his eyes away from the scarf up to meet Ivan's. 

"Could I speak with you a moment, if you are not otherwise occupied?" Ivan gestured back to the door he had just stepped out of. It was the teacher's lounge, though it was currently empty of all but the furniture. 

"Uh... sure." Alfred tried to keep the porno situations out of his head as he stepped inside - Ivan followed and closed the door behind them. That made not thinking of porno situations that much harder. 

_Mmm, harder._ If Ivan wasn't standing right behind him, Alfred would have smacked himself in the face. 

The fugue that Alfred had been over for the last twenty four plus some hours didn't quite lift but it was certainly clearer than it had been before. He was suddenly acutely aware of his environment - the teacher's lounge was pretty sparse, honestly it looked like the study section of the library with a little kitchenette area and a coffee pot, though it had a 'NO SMOKING' sign on the wall. The library didn't have that, you were just supposed to know.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing, so he looked up to Ivan who gestured to one of the chairs at a small table by the door. Yep, they were the exact same chairs as the library had. He expected the teachers to get swankier digs for some reason. 

Alfred shifted his backpack into his lap and sat down. Was he in trouble?

Ivan didn't sit down, he rarely did. Alfred wondered if he just liked towering over people. As if he didn't get enough of that by being like six-foot-twelve anyway.

"...Are you feeling well, Alfred?" Mister Braginsky asked, staring at Alfred like he could see through him if he stared hard enough. 

"W-what?" 

"You have not been your usual... overly-energetic self." Mister Braginsky explained. "Your face is also white as a sheet. Have you not looked in a mirror today?"

Alfred waved a hand dismissively, moving to stand with the same action. "It's probably just the shitty lighting-"

" _Language,_ Mister Kirkland, how many times must I remind you?"

"At least once more. I've also had a lot on my mind lately." He ignored the wave of vertigo that seemed to hit once he was on his feet again. Head rush from standing too quickly.

" _Da?_ " Ivan asked, not moving. He was blocking Alfred's way to the door. "What could be worrying a child so?"

"I'm _not_ a _child._ " Alfred blurted suddenly, even as he wanted to cringe at the whining tone he had. "I'll be legal in a little less than two years, I'm not a _child_."

Ivan was silent again, for what felt like a long time. It seemed like he wasn't looking at Alfred but looking through him, past everything he was showing and straight into what he was. 

"...So it seems. May I?"

Alfred had no idea what Ivan was asking, but honestly he didn't care. He nodded. He'd have agreed to anything. 

Ivan reached out, brushing his fingertips along Alfred's hairline before pressing his palm against the boy's forehead. His hands felt nice and cool. Alfred's breath held, willing time to slow down, to make that moment last forever.

"You're warm." Ivan chided softly. "You should not be walking in the rain every day. Do you not own an umbrella?"

"Forgot it." Alfred answered dumbly. He hadn't seen his umbrella in years, honestly. Not since he was really into the Resident Evil series, because he went out of his way to get a red and white striped one. 

" _Tch._ Go to the nurse's office and lay down until I come and get you."

"But-"

"This is not a request, Mister Kirkland." Ivan's voice left no room for arguing, and honestly Alfred was a little too tired to argue. He nodded to show he understood, and Ivan opened the door back out into the crowded hallway. Either he was going in the same direction or he didn't trust Alfred to listen, because he walked alongside Alfred all the way there, only to let Alfred duck inside on his own and explain things to the nurse.

Luckily she was on the phone, talking quietly when Alfred stepped in. He stood silently until she covered the mouthpiece of the phone with her hand and looked up to him from her desk. 

"Yes? What can I do for you?" The nurse had a way of never sounding bothered by anything. Alfred wished he had that kind of inner-serenity. Or at least the ability to fake it. He knew he was about as hard to read as an open book written at a fifth grade reading level, though Kiku called it a 'comforting honesty'. He wasn't sure whether or not that was better than 'mysterious and reassuring'. Alfred liked 'mysterious and reassuring' better. 

"Mister Braginsky sent me in to lay down for a bit..." Alfred was in luck, she was clearly preoccupied so she just nodded and gestured to one of the empty cots. Alfred set his bag down and nudged it under the cot with his foot before drawing the curtain around for some privacy while he napped. He tried to listen in on the conversation the nurse was having - not because he was interested, but only hearing half of the conversation made him intensely curious. When he couldn't make out anything other than a word here and there, Alfred accepted that it probably just had something to do with her very drawn-out divorce she had been going through since last year. Which was really sad, because as unhappy as Nurse Liz seemed in her marriage, the divorce wasn't doing her any favors. She had always been very kind to the sports teams, Alfred had certainly liked her...

 

His thoughts drifted into formless blackness as sleep overtook him. He dreamed of many things, numbers and equations that didn't make any sense and blurred to illegibility when he stared at them for too long... and of the ships again. This time he was still the bleeding Northern solider, but he was bleeding liquid fire and on the ship as well. There was no sea under them, but space itself. He recognized the stars of the spiral galaxy NGC 3370 from the images he'd seen taken by the Hubble, and they looked as bright and colorful in his dream as the enhanced and overlayed pictures.

He watched the stars passing by like distant islands, burning brightly in the night. This time it wasn't just that Ivan seemed made of ice and snow with how pale he was - Alfred could see the faint aura of frost radiating from him, the only part not frozen being the scarf around his neck which swayed in the wind that shouldn't exist. Ivan stood at the prow of the ship, watching solar systems drift by. 

In the distance, Alfred saw the Pillars of Creation.

"That's wrong." He said, walking over to Ivan and pointing to the nebula in the distance. "That's wrong, we shouldn't be able to see those from this close-"

Ivan turned to look down at Alfred, giving him a curious look.

"Alfred what are you talking about?"

"The Pillars of Creation, they're gone now." Alfred said urgently. 

"You aren't making any sense. You've gotten warmer. I'm taking you home. Alfred, wake up."

Alfred stared at the man of ice and snow.

"...Wait, what?"

 

The paleness of the infirmary at school flooded back into his senses all at once. Ivan was standing over Alfred, looking down at him with concern. He couldn't hear the nurse talking anymore. It seemed like just the two of them in the room but the privacy screen could have been deceiving him. 

"...What?" Alfred repeated - his mouth tasted like sleep.

"You were dreaming." Ivan said quietly, holding out a hand to help Alfred up. The other was already holding his bag. "You have been asleep for an hour now, come, I will drive you home unless you think your father will be able to come pick you up."

The last like was mostly a CYA, Alfred was pretty sure. There was no way his dad would be free until 9pm at the earliest. 

He nodded, taking Ivan's hand. This time it felt cool against his skin, the whole room seemed like someone busted the thermostat and had everything on 90 degrees as standard. Ivan lead the way back to his truck, through the empty hallways. The hockey team had rented out the ice skating rink in downtown and were practicing there. The walk felt like the same blur that the day before had been lost to. Alfred spent most of it with his eyes half-closed, letting Ivan lead the way. He almost bumped into the truck itself but Ivan opened the door and ushered him inside first. 

"What were you talking about before?" The Russian teacher asked once they were on the road and moving at the idling pace the suburban streets demanded. "In the nurse office. 'Pillars of Creation'?" He didn't say it, but it clearly sounded like he thought it was some kind of flight of fancy of Alfred's. 

"Mmm. It's interstellar gas the Hubble telescope took pictures of... they look like pillars of clouds, so. 'Pillars of Creation'. They're beautiful." Alfred rolled down the window, just a crack, so that the rain wouldn't get in but the blessed breeze would. Fuck, did Ivan have the heat on or something?

"You said they were gone now." Ivan inquired softly.

"Yeah. Supernova shock wave... it completely destroyed them, couple thousand years ago." Alfred rested his head against the glass of the window. It was nice and cold.

"But you said the Hubble took a picture of it." Ivan prompted. 

Alfred cracked one eye open to look over at Ivan to see if he was fucking with Alfred. 

No, he wasn't. He seemed genuinely curious. That was it, Alfred had to be hallucinating.

"'Speed of light' isn't ... it isn't infinitely fast, though it feels like it for us." Alfred explained. "In space, though, it's peanuts. It's peanuts to space. The Pillars were so far away that their light still reaches us even though they're long gone... we won't stop seeing them for another million years, probably. Because..." he trailed off, going silent as he forgot the words.

"Because they're so far away?" Ivan prompted again.

"Yeah." That was what he was looking for. "...It's stupid."

The car slowed all of a sudden. They were back to Alfred's already, he hadn't noticed the time passing. All the lights were dim, though. There was no one home. Matt was probably still at practice for the upcoming game. Ivan noticed it too, because he pulled into the driveway instead of idling on the street. 

When Alfred unbuckled his seat belt, Ivan did the same.

"I will help you in. I would worry you would end up face-down in your doorway if I did not." he said. It wasn't a request or an offer, it was a statement of action he had decided on. Alfred nodded, figuring it was a 'discretion is the better part of valor' thing and let Ivan help him up the stairs. The blond boy dropped his keys when trying to unlock the door but Ivan caught them in one smooth movement and unlocked the door for him. 

"Do you have a security system I should be worried about?" Ivan asked, leading Alfred inside before the boy answered. 

"Nah. Y'can drop my bag by the door, nothin' breakable is in it." Alfred said. Ivan set the bag gently just inside the doorway and slid the door closed with his foot. He looked around, a bit lost. 

"Which room is yours-?" Ivan asked, seeing several doorways and a stairway. 

"Mmm. Couch." Alfred said, all but leaning entirely against Ivan.

"... You sleep on the couch?"

"Nooo, my room's upstairs, last door on the left, but - when I'm sick I sleep on the couch." Alfred explained. "There's extra linens in the closet by the kitchen."

Again, Mister Braginsky looked at Alfred like he'd grown a second head. Or just started explaining Star Trek space ships to him again. 

"Why do you sleep on the couch when you are sick?" Ivan asked. "I would think your bed would be more comfortable."

Alfred shrugged, pulling off his jacket and shoes and pulling away from Ivan to meander the few steps he needed to make it to the couch that was long enough that it easily fit him. He flopped down and kicked his feet up to curl up. 

"Because I do." He explained. 

He must have fallen asleep again, it was either that or Ivan had mastered spontaneous transportation because he was soon nudging Alfred awake so that he could place a pillow under the boy's head and drape a blanket over him. They both smelled like the linen closet. 

"You are not allergic to any of the medicine you have in your cabinet, yes?" Ivan asked.

"No allergies." Alfred clarified. He was then presented with two pills and a glass of water before he could wonder why Ivan asked. 

"Fever reducer. Take it."

Alfred still wasn't in the mood to argue or make a sarcastic quip, so he sat up enough to swallow the pills and laid back down. 

"Why did you say it was stupid that the nebulae were so far away?" Ivan asked softly, kneeling down next to the couch so he was almost eye-level with where Alfred's head was resting. He removed the glasses from Alfred's face and set them on the end table. 

"Because... because the universe is so big. It's so big our numbers are estimates and we don't even know if it's infinite or not. And it's basically still expanding. There's so much... _so much_ out there. And we haven't even put a human being on Mars yet. What - what the fuck is wrong with us? We're fighting wars about who has the best government and imaginary best friend in the sky and we can't even get out of our own solar system. We got to Luna a couple times then gave up after Columbia because it got too hard." Alfred's heart honestly ached when he thought about the space program. He cried when he heard about the shutting down of the space shuttle program to the point that he had been asked if he had a death in the family. Finding out about space launch program had lifted his spirits, but for the two weeks in between the announcements he was inconsolable. Even talking about it to Ivan he felt the sting of tears at the corners of his eyes. Some people made fun of him for taking it so hard. Kiku was the only one who understood. 

"...I think I was wrong when I said you did not understand hard work or desire. I apologize." Ivan said after several moments of hushed thought made all the longer by the fact that Alfred was having a hard time judging the passing of time. It was hard to digest the words, and it took Alfred probably far too long to comment.

"... You never told me I didn't understand desire."

"Ah. Perhaps I just thought it then. Will you be alright until someone comes home, or should I take you to a hospital?" Ivan's hand went to Alfred's forehead, feeling the warmth of it. Alfred leaned into the touch without even thinking about it.

"I'll be okay. I'm always okay. Why ... why are you being so nice?"

Ivan smiled.

"Because you are letting me. And you are too feverish to probably remember any of this. Good night Alfred. ... You should really be calling me Mister Braginsky, not Ivan. Though your pronunciation is better."

"Mmkay, Ivan."

This time Alfred's dreams were nothing but endless blackness.

 

He woke up only briefly when Matthew came home, mumbled something about a fever and went back to sleep until Matt woke him again with chicken soup and water that he made Alfred eat. 

He was roused again when his dad came home. Everything was pitch black. Arthur didn't see him at first, just hanging up his coat and setting his briefcase down - when he flicked on the hall light Alfred's eyes snapped shut to keep from being spot-blinded by it, then he decided to pretend to still be asleep. Just in case. 

"Oh, Alfred." Arthur sighed, going over to where Alfred rested and pressing a hand against his forehead before stroking Alfred's hair. He actually stayed there for a long time, just sitting by Alfred's side, until he finally moved to his study. Alfred could see the light on from the couch. Arthur worked in there for some time, keeping an eye on Alfred.

Al had no idea when Arthur went to bed or when he woke up again. He drifted in and out of sleep for most of the weekend, and true to Ivan's assumptions he only vaguely remembered being taken home by the teacher. Arthur called him out of school on Monday so that he could finish making a full recovery. He spent most of that long weekend alone - whenever Matt offered to stay home Alfred shooed him right back out the door to hockey practice. 

He was in the habit of being alone, to be honest. It bothered him a little, but it was nothing he wasn't used to.

Monday night his father e-mailed him while he was in the middle of working on some homework to ask if he'd need another day to recover. 

That was the first time Alfred realized how easy it would be to blow off school. He always figured it wouldn't be hard before, but he never had the sudden understanding that he could probably just stop going. 

He e-mailed Arthur back saying he was already feeling back up to 100%, and by the way would he be able to make it to Matthew's game tomorrow it started at seven but the doors to the ice rink would be opening at five. 

A few hours later he got back one line of 'I'll see what I can do.'

Alfred felt like punching the computer screen. He ended up doing like a million (okay more like just fifty) push-ups instead. It would have to work since it was still raining too hard for him to go for a run. 

By the end of Monday he'd caught up with all his homework, did all the laundry in the house, did all of the dishes, basically the shit Matt covered that had fallen to the wayside in lieu of practice for the big game. Alfred was surprised to find how much of it he really didn't know how to do or just couldn't remember and was more than slightly thankful that no one was around to witness his far too frequent fuck-ups. 

 

He caught Ivan in the hallway in the second passing period of the next day, shouting "MISTER BRAGINSKY!" and knocking over a senior to get to Ivan. It seemed like he actually startled Ivan - at least, he looked a little scared for some reason? Why the heck was he nervous?

"Hey, are you coming to the game?" Alfred asked excitedly, shoving back anyone who shoved him for stopping in the hall. He was standing off to the side, bitches could fucking deal with it. 

"Ah, the game. That is tonight. I will see what I can do." Ivan said, nodding at his non-committal answer and moving away before Alfred could flag him down a second time. Son of a bitch. 

Alfred watched him walk away until he got lost in the sea of people, then went to get to his next class.

 

"Do you think he'll be there?" Alfred asked Kiku in the lunch room. The cacophony was even louder than usual. It wasn't the same as football, but students would grasp onto what school pride they could. 

"Mister Braginsky, or your father?" Kiku asked, building a small fortress of his and Alfred's tater tots.

"Either. Both." Alfred answered. His gaze drifted out to the field, but it was empty. Several days of rain meant it was officially a safety hazard to have students running around in it, instead they were in the halved-off part of the gym that wasn't occupied by students at lunch. Alfred could have sworn he heard basketball going, but the movable partition wall muffled quite a bit more sound than it rightly should. 

"I think it could go either way." Kiku said without commitment to either answer. What was it with people lately? Alfred huffed.

"... I think I ended up going on a space rant to Mister Braginsky when he took me home." Alfred admitted, resting his chin in his palm while he watched Kiku work. He still didn't have his full appetite back. 

"A space rant? Did you cry?" there was no malice or teasing to Kiku's question, only genuine concern for his friend.

"I fucking hope not, man. Otherwise I'd have to track down AURYN just to wish my ass off until I lost that memory." Alfred sighed, careful to sigh away from the small structure on their lunch trays. Kiku began incorporating vegetables. 

"But then you would run the risk of forgetting your friends. I would hope you would not forget me." Kiku said, raising an eyebrow. He didn't look away from his creation.

"Nah. That'd be my last memory, I think." Alfred had more or less gone into mumble mode. It was either shouting or mumbling with him. "The one that held me through it all so I could get home." 

Kiku smiled.

"You'd be my memory too. Do you want to go to the rink together after school? Mother let me borrow her car so I can drive us, they will be working and unable to attend." 

"Fuck yeah." Alfred grinned. He tore a strip of notebook paper off into a little triangle and drew a rocket ship on it. He fastened it to a toothpick and stuck it on top of Kiku's tower of lunch leftovers. In unison, the two boys took out their cellphones and snapped pictures of it, then flipped their phones to show - they had both set it as their new background image. 

The two high-fived. 

"We're so badass." Alfred asserted.

"I am pretty certain we are the only ones who think that." Kiku said while sliding his phone back into his jacket pocket. 

"NO DISSENTION IN THE RANKS. WE'RE BADASS!" Alfred slammed his fist onto the table. It shook the small tower and caused it to topple in on itself. 

"..." Kiku looked at the ruined creation. "...Indeed. Hail the chairman, we are badass."

 

Kiku and Alfred were some of the first arrivals aside from those who were actually playing, so they helped Matthew and his teammates set up and get ready. Unfortunately they weren't as much help as they could have been - Max showed up early to help Matthew out too, and it was mostly Max and Alfred fighting with Kiku helping, and Matthew stopping to break the fighting up periodically. Tim finally shouted at them to get the hell out if they weren't going to be a real help, and that actually shut them up enough to get them to work in peace. Tim's voice could get booming when he wanted it to, and Alfred understood what he meant by 'career military family'. That was full-on Drill Sargent. 

When they had done all hey could and headed back out to the seating it was late enough that the big fans were already in their seats and the regular shows of school spirit were starting to file in. Alfred's heart jumped into his throat. Near rink-side was Ivan Braginsky, sitting next to a woman who looked about the same age with pale blonde hair and a chest that looked like it could be used as a flotation device in the event of an emergency. 

"Kiku! It's Mister Braginsky!" Alfred almost knocked Kiku over with the force of shaking his shoulder. 

"Fuck, Kirkland, get a room first if you're gonna give him a lap dance." Max muttered as he walked by. Alfred raised a fist to punch him out but Kiku grabbed is arm and started dragging him in the other direction. 

"Maybe you should go and say hello-"

"You're right! There's free seats by him, come on!" Because Kiku was still holding on to Alfred, he was dragged along with the other boy after he made that declaration. Alfred didn't see any sign of his father yet, but it was early enough...

"Mister Braginsky!" Alfred called. He chose to ignore the flinch at that, sitting in the open seat next to Braginsky and dragging Kiku to sit next to him. Kiku threw their coats on the next open seat. 

"Hey! I'm glad you could make it, Matt - my brother- he's the captain! He's the best!" Alfred assured Ivan, talking nonstop about how amazing the game was going to be because Matt was so awesome because he was Alfred's brother - when he finally had to stop to breathe Ivan finally had a moment to interrupt. 

"Alfred Kirkland, this is my sister, Yekaterina." Ivan said, gesturing to the woman next to him and adding the disclaimer "She is not as practiced at English." 

"HI! I'm Alfred, this is my best friend, Kiku!" Alfred said brightly, thumbing at Kiku then reaching over Ivan to hold his hand out to Yekaterina. She laughed, taking Alfred's hand and shaking it. 

"It is nice to meet you both." she said, her words slightly halting as she carefully chose each one. "Vanya took English when he was very young, I learned later." 

"Yeah, when he was in school?" Alfred asked, smiling. Yekaterina seemed MUCH more open about information...

"Yes!" Yekaterina's smile was bright. "At the-"

" _Katyusha._ " Ivan was glaring at his sister. She didn't seem frightened of him, though she did look a bit embarrassed. 

" _Мне очень жаль, маленький брат. Я забыл. Он просто такой веселый._ " She said apologetically.

" _Я не сержусь на тебя, но он уже спрашивает очень много вопросов._ " Ivan sighed, tugging lightly at the scarf around his neck and very distinctly not looking at Alfred. "Было бы лучше, чтобы не поощрять его."

Alfred looked questioningly at Kiku.

"I did not spontaneously develop the ability to speak Russian in the last five minutes." Kiku told Alfred, his voice flat. 

"Ah, I am sorry." Yekaterina said with an apologetic smile. "I forget sometimes, I am so used to just taking to Vanya and Natasha. I must practice my English more."

"I'll practice with you!" Alfred volunteered instantly. "I'm like super mega awesome at English!"

Kiku elbowed him in the side.

"I'm not bad at English and Kiku helps me out a lot, he's got like the best grades in our class!" Alfred corrected his previous statement.

"Again, you offer my services without consulting with me first." Kiku sighed. "Has your father texted you yet?" 

Kiku knew just what to say to distract Alfred. He grabbed his phone and checked within the next heartbeat - and looked disappointed in the one instantly following. 

"No... Maybe he's caught in traffic." Alfred said, trying to hold back the doubt in his voice. There WAS traffic during that time of day, but not _that_ much. He fired off a quick message of where they were sitting and that they were trying to save him a seat but he should get there soon. There was no instant answer. 

"...I am sure your father would not miss your brother's important game, da?" Ivan said gruffly. 

"I am certain you haven't met my father." Alfred muttered darkly. "Oh, hey, I never thanked you for giving me a ride home on Friday..." Ivan stiffened at Alfred's words. 

"Think nothing of it. I was just doing my job." Ivan said, looking at the ice rink and not Alfred.

"Haha, I probably woulda walked into traffic or something if I went home on my own. I hope I wasn't too annoying, I don't remember much." Though Alfred did remember vaguely Ivan saying he was nice to Alfred because Alfred would probably forget. He let Ivan think it was all lost to the fever though... maybe that would give Ivan incentive to be nice to him again? _Wow, way to be pathetic, Al_. Alfred thought to himself. _Shut up, Freddy._ he answered himself. 

"It was really no trouble." Ivan insisted. 

They made mostly small-talk from then on. Alfred had to calm himself down a bit and try to keep his creative vocabulary to a minimum when talking to Ivan's sister, but he didn't mind. She was very timid but very sweet, and had quite a pleasant laugh. Also, her chest was huge. 

He may have wanted to get pounded into a wall by her brother and all, but that didn't mean he lost his appreciation for breasts. Especially impressive ones like hers.

While Ivan was in the restroom Alfred managed to talk her into showing him a photo of all three of the Braginsky siblings together. They were dressed in formal clothing, Ivan and Yekaterina were flanking a much smaller woman who was dressed in a snow white wedding gown. There was probably twenty five pounds of tulle netting on that thing, and another fifty pounds worth of glittering gems (possibly fake, the picture wasn't good enough to tell). Alfred watched reality television, he'd seen some pretty ostentatious wedding dresses before, but this... _Whoa._ Despite how theatrical the dress was, the young woman wore it quite gracefully. Even in the creased photo from being carried around in Yekaterina's wallet for years, she looked like a beautiful doll that was too expensive to ever be played with. 

"Vanya and I at Natasha's wedding." Yekaterina explained, pointing to who was who in the photo. "Four years ago."

"Whoa! You all look amazing! Did her husband move to America with the three of you?" Alfred asked. Kiku leaned over and looked at the photo as well but refrained from commenting. 

"Ah... _nyet_ ," Yekaterina flushed, as she tried to find the right words to explain. "Natasha's marriage... they are, um. What is the word... separate?"

"Separated." Alfred said with a nod. "... I'm sorry. Guess not all marriages work out."

"This is better, I think. Though I wish it had worked out... Ah, Vanya, welcome back!" Yekaterina at least understood keeping things from Ivan to a certain extent, and she quickly had the photo back in her wallet before he could see it was out. 

Alfred checked his phone again, but there was still no reply. It was twenty minutes to game time. He fired off another text of 'Where are you?' before dialing the line to his dad's cell. If he was in his office it probably wouldn't be picked up.

It went to voice mail. Alfred stood and moved out into the walkway while Ivan moved back into place on the bench.

"Hey, dad, it's me... Just wondering where you are. There's still like twenty before the game starts but it's getting pretty packed in here, and parking's probably pretty bad out there... give me a call back okay? Bye." Alfred moved back into his seat after making the call, watching the main door anxiously. Any minute now Arthur had to come in. He had to. He wouldn't miss Matthew's game, not when Alfred had asked him not to. 

Twenty more minutes of smalltalk passed. 

The whistle blew for the start of the game, and Arthur Kirkland was still nowhere in sight.


	10. "If you didn't want kids then why the hell did you have them?!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game starts, but there's more than just a hockey win at stake with Mr. Kirkland still missing when halftime hits.

The match had a slow start - they were playing against Cascade High School this time. South Shore's teams were their normal rivals when it came to sports but the one sport they didn't have was a hockey team. Alfred was a little surprised to see a few students he recognized from South Shore in the audience, cheering on Matt and his team. 

The intense practice had paid off - Matthew's team took a good head start at the beginning which helped rouse the fans up. Alfred had never seriously watched his brother play before, but now he was pretty amazed. Matthew was like a hockey _ninja_ , completely invisible on the ice until out of nowhere he slammed someone into a wall and stole the puck right out from under them. Max led the cheering every time Matthew got a good shot and if Alfred hadn't been so preoccupied with checking his phone for his dad's calls he would have made some kind of crass comment about Max being the cheerleader for the team.

"Where the fuck is he?" Alfred asked, standing to try and get a look at the door while the action was paused for the refs to debate a call. 

"Your father?" Ivan asked, looking at Alfred rather than the rules debate.

"Yeah, he should be here by now." Alfred's voice was strained as he tried to keep a lid on the temper tantrum that threatened to boil over inside of him. It was one thing if Arthur legitimately got caught up with work, but he was completely blowing them off! They were his sons, for fuck's sake, didn't he have some kind of parental responsibility to not be a completely neglectful douchebag? "It's almost halftime, I'm calling him again." 

"Alfred, _wait,_ don't say something you'll regret." Kiku warned, reaching out to grab Alfred's wrist as the taller boy squeezed by to make it into the aisle. 

"No, _no_ , he needs to take some fucking responsibility, Kiku. I'm not letting him just blow us off _again_. Someday he's gonna have to learn that if he wasn't able to be a parent maybe he _shouldn't have had kids._ " Alfred knew he was talking before thinking, but the problem was when he got on a righteous anger kick he really didn't care. It was like being drunk - he recognized his actions would have negative consaquences, but they didn't seem important at all. He pulled away from Kiku, storming out to the walkway so he could stand at the doors where the signal was better while he dialed Arthur's number again.

 

The three watched Alfred go. 

"Someone should go after him." Kiku said quietly, turning to look at Ivan. 

"Yes." Ivan agreed. A moment later he noticed Kiku was looking at him. "... What? He's your friend, you should go."

Kiku shook his head slowly. "He won't listen to me right now. This isn't the first time something like this has happened."

Ivan's sister was looking at him imploringly as well. 

"Vanya... You should go." Yekaterina said quietly. Ivan looked ready to bust a vein, this time it was him who was speaking quickly in their native tongue. Neither paid attention while Kiku pulled out his phone and started typing away at it. 

" _Нет, нет. Я уже говорил вам! Этот мальчик не понимает границ, я не могу поощрять такое поведение._ " Ivan all but yelled, clearly trusting that no one around spoke Russian. It was true, the only notice his yelling received was that of curious bafflement. Yekaterina flinched at her brother's yelling, but that didn't keep her from responding, her own voice quiet.

" _Я просто помню, когда вы были молоды. Когда вы действительно нужен кто-то вам сказать, что только потому, что ваш отец не мог быть там, это не значит, что он любил тебя меньше._ " Yekaterina's words got silence from Ivan before he muttered something that sounded like a curse, standing and dropping his coat to hold his seat. 

"I will be back soon." He told Kiku and Yekaterina, squeezing to the main aisle to follow where Alfred had went. 

Kiku had not spontaneously learned to speak Russian, no. But he was fairly certain he could figure something out with the voice recording he had been taking. It was better to be safe than sorry.

 

Alfred paced the narrow hallway right in front of the doors, one hand over his ear to keep the sound out while he listened to the ring tone. 

"Come on... Pick up... _pick up..._ you fucking son of a bitch _pick up!_ " 

A click. Alfred held his breath.

" _You have reached the Voice Mail Box of Arthur Kirkland. Please leave your name and number after the tone._ "

Alfred really hadn't meant to start yelling. But Alfred hadn't meant to make a lot of bad decisions in his short life so far, either. 

"What is WRONG WITH YOU?!" He yelled into the phone's receiver. "You can go to work late so I 'don't wake up alone' when I'm sick but you can't get out of the office for a measly couple of HOURS to see Matthew play one of the most important games of the season? Do you even fucking understand what this means to him - do you understand ANYTHING about us or do you even _fucking care?!_ "

Alfred kicked the wall because it wasn't going anywhere, because it was a big slab of concrete and he'd hurt himself before he hurt it. His foot was sore after but he just worked the string of swears into his rant. 

"I can't believe you! If you didn't want kids then why the hell did you have them?! Did you just figure mom was gonna be around forever? You're pathetic, you're the worst! FOR FUCK'S SAKE DAD _PICK UP YOUR FUCKING PHONE-_ " the sharp beep of the voice mail cutting off his rant was so deafening that he barely heard the loud cheer go up signaling halftime, he didn't know what team scored or who was ahead. He had been too focused on wondering if his father was going to show up. Too busy to pay attention to Matthew. 

"... I really am an awful brother." Alfred said to himself. His throat was sore from screaming into his phone. 

A hand fell to Alfred's shoulder, and he was so startled that he spun to strike without thinking about it. 

The Russian teacher also acted on instinct, stepping back, grabbing hold of Alfred's wrist and slamming him against the wall to pin him and keep him from striking again. 

There was a moment of stunned shock between both parties, and it was probably a testament to how much inner turmoil and shit that Alfred had in that he actually didn't have to tell himself _'Oh fuck don't get an erection'_ even as he was bodily pinned to a wall by the man of his day dreams.

Then Ivan opened his mouth and said...

and said...

"...Have you been crying?" 

"What? NO!" Alfred's response was as quick as his punch, before he felt the wetness at the corners of his eyes. Stress crying. That's all it was even though he wasn't about to admit it, and yanked his wrist from Ivan's grasp to scrub at his face and clear them away. 

"Alfred..." Ivan hesitated, looking around as if to make sure they were still alone before he placed a hand back on Alfred's shoulder again - carefully, like he was worried he was going to get punched again. Alfred saw him coming so he wasn't startled again, and instead favored the idea of firmly Not Looking At Ivan. "It's... okay, to be upset. But you have to understand, fathers have responsibilities-"

"I can't believe you, you don't even fucking know him! Who's side are you on?!"

"I am on _yours_ , which you would realize if you just opened up your eyes and saw through your self-pity!"

Alfred opened his mouth to yell back, but Ivan's words sunk in before he could find something even stupider to dig himself even deeper with. So instead he just stood there, dumbly, mouth hanging open and looking up at Ivan's very angry and frustrated face. 

"...Mister Braginski, _Ivan_ , I-" Alfred's heart _ached._

" _ **No,**_ Alfred. Whatever you are thinking of saying, keep it to yourself. No."

"You- You didn't even know what I was gonna say!"

"Do not flatter yourself, you are not so hard to read."

Alfred sputtered, angry and upset and _hurt_ with his dad and this whole situation but also embarrassed and flustered with Ivan and feeling far too many feelings at the same time, what it felt like was _going crazy_. He thought they should be simpler, like fairies, too small to feel or be more than one thing at a time. But that was dumb because fairies weren't real. Not like aliens. 

The doors Alfred was standing by with Ivan opened. Ivan moved his hand off of Alfred's shoulder like the boy had burned him. Alfred swallowed a lump in his throat and turned to see who came in. His mouth went dry. 

"...Dad?"

Arthur was standing in the doorway, his cellphone in one hand and his suit jacket held in the other. He didn't just look his usual brand of slightly tired. He looked like, well, he looked like the very reason the adage 'looked like hell' came into existence. His suit was a rumpled mess, strange considering it always looked freshly dry-cleaned and ironed. His hair was all over the place, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to be out in full force this evening.

"...I'm sorry I'm late." Arthur said, his eyes darted between Alfred, Ivan, Alfred, Alfred's _cellphone_ then back to his son. He shoved his own phone in his pocket and shifted his jacket to his other hand. "...There was a three car pile-up on the freeway. I just missed it, but I had to give a police statement."

Alfred paled. 

"Oh god, dad, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry yourself, Alfred." Arthur nodded, walking to where Ivan and Alfred stood.

Alfred looked at his dad, at his absolutely exhausted demeanor. Arthur didn't look him in the eye, unless Alfred has spontaneously grown eyes on his shoulder or forehead or that dumb cowlick he'd never managed to get rid of. Worry snapped back into anger like a rubber-band stretched to far. 

"... Why the fuck didn't you call?!" Alfred shouted. Ivan was probably feeling pretty awkward but Alfred shot him a look when he shifted to move away. He just... liked the feeling of Ivan next to him, and as embarrassing as this conversation was, he felt stronger having it with Ivan there. 

"... Bad parenting skills, I suppose." He had gotten Alfred's last message, that much was clear. "Now isn't the time, Alfred. We'll talk later. I imagine Matthew is wondering where I've been." Arthur stepped passed Alfred, heading into the seating area and clearly expecting Alfred to follow. Alfred bit his tongue against making a comment that Matthew didn't expect anything out of Arthur anymore. 

Instead, he looked up at Ivan, who had been quiet for the whole exchange. 

"... That's dad-speak for 'you aren't in trouble, but we're going to pretend the whole thing never happened'." Alfred clarified, quietly so Arthur wouldn't hear. He hated that he had yelled at his dad for something that wasn't his father's fault, but he hated more that it got just as ignored as everything else. 

Ivan nudged Alfred forward with a gentle push at the small of his back. 

"It is your brother's day, da? I'm sure it will mean a lot for him to hear you cheering."

"Yeah." Alfred agreed. "... It'd be a whole new level of shitty brother previously undiscovered by man if I made it about me and dad's fight and - I know, _language._ " Alfred grinned, following his father to where Kiku was no doubt flagging him down to point out the seat they saved. Ivan walked with him. 

"He has a peculiar accent for an American. He sounds like he is from the United Kingdom." Ivan pointed out as they walked.

"Oh, yeah, well, he is. I mean, he's got American citizenship and Mattie and I were born here, but his whole family is in England and he's gotta go back there so often for work his accent don't ever fade too much." Alfred could see Kiku speaking with his dad down by rink side. If Arthur had any strong feelings about Matthew's friends he never made Alfred aware of them, but he liked Kiku quite a bit. It was the same reason Kiku's parents liked Alfred, probably. Kiku was a good influence, and Arthur recognized that he was one of the only people that Alfred would listen to. 

"England, Canada, America - is there anywhere your family is not from?" Ivan asked incredulously. 

"Russia." Alfred replied with a grin.

 

The game was close - though Matt's team had taken the lead in the beginning, CHS had made a decent recovery and pulled ahead by halftime. They were neck and neck until the very last goal - Tim had deflected the puck away from their goal and Matthew caught it on the ricochet, using the momentum it already had while adding to it, shooting the black rubber disc across the rink so quick and so hard that it was in the other team's goal before they even knew Matthew had taken the shot. 

The cheer that went up was deafening, and when Matthew turned to look at his brother and saw Arthur standing there with him, clapping, his smile could have lit the whole building. Matthew was caught up in the borderline riot of victory by his team, but as soon as he was able to detach himself from the crowd he skated over to where Alfred and Arthur were, hugging them both over the waist-high partition. 

"You came!" He said to Arthur, still flushed from the exertion of the game. "...Did Alfred ask you to?"

"No." Alfred cut their dad off before he could tell the truth, trying to sound as incredulous as possible. Even if HE was disillusioned with their father, he wanted Matt to still be able to have faith in at least the idea of him. Matt smiled sadly but didn't argue Alfred's point. 

" _Thank you._ " Matthew said, and while he was hugging Arthur again when he said it, it was Alfred he was looking at. 

"MATT!!" Max came running, jumping across he bleachers two rows at a time and shoving Alfred to the side so he could give Matthew a friendly whack on the shoulder. "Did you guys have plans for where you're gonna go to celebrate your win?"

"Ah, no!" Matthew laughed breathlessly. He seemed surprised that they had even won. Cascade's hockey team actually got recognition compared to their own. 

"Papa says he'll keep the restaurant open late if you want to have it there!" Max had probably had to beg his dad for that one. 

" _Really?_ That'd be great, I'll tell the team. Thank you, Max!" Matthew positively beamed with joy, and Max gave him a grin in return before running back to where his parents were to tell his dad that the plan was a go. Matthew looked curiously at Arthur, hesitating before asking - "Do you have to go back to work now, Father?" 

Arthur glanced over at Alfred then shook his head. 

"I'm yours for the night, son. Tell your friends about the dinner, I'll pay for it too." He reached out to take off Matthew's helmet, ruffling his son's hair then handing the helmet back over. Arthur was never good with displays of affection, especially physical ones. He was raised differently, with different expectations, but he was trying.

Matthew struggled to not hug Arthur again. He'd already hugged him twice and he knew his dad's limit for that kind of thing, but... "Thank you." Matthew said again. He nodded his head, trying to be dignified and skating back to the team. 

"Will you be needing a ride to the restaurant, Alfred?" Arthur asked, shifting and pulling his suit jacket back on to straighten up a bit. It was kind of amazing how quickly he could go from haggard to presentable-but-busy. 

"I dunno, I - _ow!_ " Alfred glared at Kiku, who had elbowed him in the side before he could say he didn't want to go because he fucking hated Max and didn't want to spend any more time with him than he possibly had to. The look Kiku gave him said it all, like Ivan had told him earlier - this was Matt's day, not his. He sighed. "... No, I've got a ride with Kiku." 

"What? You know parties aren't really my thing." Kiku protested, not liking the tables being turned on him there one bit.

"And someone needs to be around to make sure I don't fight with Max so Matt can enjoy the party. It _is_ his day, and you're like my _very best friend_ Kiku." Alfred's grin was almost face-splitting. Playing the F-Card went both ways. 

"... Fine, I will drive." Kiku huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

The sound of Ivan and his sister speaking quietly to one another in Russian caught Alfred's ear, then, though he couldn't make out anything other than indistinct sounds. He glanced over to see them getting their coats on too. 

"I must be taking my sister home, early day tomorrow as usual." Ivan said. He had only gotten a brief introduction to Arthur while the refs had debated more calls after Arthur arrived, so Alfred was thankful he was able to avoid any awkward conversations. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mister Kirkland." Ivan held out his hand. Arthur shook it, all businessman.

"You too. Thank you for taking such an interest in Alfred as well." Arthur just meant it in the academic sense, but behind his back Alfred could feel his whole face going red. He just hoped Ivan didn't notice, and busied himself with his phone when Ivan squeezed past him to get to the main aisle.

Alfred and Kiku left soon after that, Kiku needed to check in with his parents before being out too late and they were intending to meet the others at Max's father's restaurant anyway. When they piled into the car, Alfred noticed Ivan standing by his truck, having a cigarette before he left. 

"... I tried to tell Mister Braginski how I felt." He told Kiku, buckling his seat belt. He kept watching Ivan from across the parking lot. Like a creepy stalker, probably. If stalkers were as cute as he was, he had been told by several ladies that he was cute so he was obviously an attractive 'guilty fantasy' stalker and not one of those unwashed creeps. 

"Ah?" Kiku asked as he started the car up. His mother had an automatic gas-electric hybrid. _Kiku_ had aced driver's ed, even though he was running on 48 hours awake when he took his test. Alfred loved Kiku, but times like that he hated him just a little.

"Yeah. He cut me off. Told me to keep whatever I was thinking to myself." Alfred sighed, they'd pulled out of the parking lot enough that Ivan was out of sight. He let his head thump against the cold window. "And that I wasn't hard to read. ... Do you think he knows?" 

"Hard to say." Kiku said quietly. "But it is probably for the best, isn't it?" 

"... Maybe." Alfred's voice sounded defeated, but this was just a little setback. He was in far too deep to give up now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some minor adjective tweaking here this chapter.


	11. "No more detentions. Just go."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred surprises Ivan with an early birthday present which does not go as well as he'd hoped. Ivan looks at his life and his choices and regrets everything.

"Are you doing anything for winter break, or Christmas?" Alfred asked ever-so-casually while he mopped the linoleum flooring of one of the school hallways. He was getting pretty fucking good at chores if he did say so himself - no more weird aches in muscles unaccustomed to the movement, and they were getting a lot more done in a lot less time. 

"Having dinner with my sister, most likely." Ivan answered, not looking up. He was looking at Alfred less and less lately, and Alfred felt frustrated and upset by that turn of events. Had Ivan lost interest in him? Was he even interested in the first place? God damn it, why didn't life come with an adjustable easy mode where all the enemies had half HP and you never died?

"Katy?" Though Alfred had gotten 'Ivan' down to a proper pronunciation, he still had difficulty with 'Katyusha' so the much easier nickname had stuck to avoid having to mangle her name too much. Alfred was worried that was kind of racist or whatever the racist equivalent was when you were dealing with people who were white but still a different culture, but both Ivan and Katyusha had found it funny and didn't seem to mind. It turned out Katyusha was taking ESL classes at the same community college that Alfred was taking Physics with Kiku at, so he ran into her briefly from time to time. Which was _totally awesome_ because she totally made her own lunch to bring and would share her leftovers with them if they found her at the right time. 

Ivan chuckled, shaking his head at hearing the nickname again. "Yes, Katyusha." 

"What about your other sister, Na... Natasha?" Alfred asked, not slowing his work. That had gotten him yelled at more than once. Curiosity was allowed only if the work didn't slow down. 

"... Yes, she will probably be there too." Ivan said after a long bit of hesitation. 

"Why are you so scared of her, man? You go so quiet when she gets brought up, and I swear you get paler." Alfred pointed out. When Ivan turned to look at him, Alfred ducked his head back down to try and hide that he had been looking at Ivan. 

"... Family issues." Ivan said flatly, giving no more explanation, though he reached up and tugged at the collar of his shirt. 

It was already the first week of December. Christmas and Ivan's birthday were fast approaching. Alfred had a chance to ask many questions since he started detention, but if he ever asked anything related to the scar on Ivan's neck he'd be completely shut down. He was impatient, he wanted to know everything about Ivan and he didn't want to wait for the attention he felt he deserved. Since Ivan's birthday fell during Christmas break, Alfred decided to surprise him a little bit early. That way he could see Ivan's reaction and not be cockblocked by more than a week of no school that was otherwise great because hey no school. 

He had a plan, he was going to be ready.

 

Through all of that Friday, Alfred was anxious. He couldn't sit still, he jumped at every little noise. It was like before a game day. He had been planning this since he asked Ivan the question that lead to the fact that he liked sunflowers. A little hard to get out of season like this, but... 

The final bell for the day rang and Alfred was off like a rocket, grabbing his bag with the intent to meet up with Kiku after school. It seemed like he was going to be able to get through the day without being caught, and yeah, maybe he was congratulating himself a little bit on it. 

Until a strong hand grabbed his arm and yanked him into an unoccupied classroom. 

Alfred swung his fist blind and it connected to skin with a hard thud that made his hand hurt from the angle. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the empty classroom, his heart started thudding like a freight train engine. 

"-Don't scare me, dude!" Alfred yelled, blushing. Fuck, what did you do when you punched your crush in the face? Ivan held his sore jaw with one hand (that was absolutely going to bruise) but kept the other holding Alfred's arm in an iron grip. 

" _Alfred_ , what is the meaning of this?" Ivan asked angrily when his jaw started working like normal again. 

"Well, you see, when I get scared I just lash out-" Alfred started to explain.

" _ALFRED_ , you know what I mean!" Ivan growled, Alfred could count almost all of his teeth with that move, and while it could have just been the light that was filtering through the drawn blinds to the classroom he could swear the violet eyes looked just a bit more on the red side. He was incredibly angry, like punch a hole in the wall angry. Alfred bit his lip. He prayed Ivan didn't look down or press too much closer otherwise this would get awkward really quickly. "When I went into my office this morning, there were sunflowers everywhere. Why do you keep insisting on doing this kind of thing, Alfred?"

"The card wasn't signed." Alfred stammered out first. "So it could have been anyone. ... But, also, last time I tried to tell you, you told me to not say it."

They stood there in the low light for some time, neither speaking or daring to even breathe too loudly. It was Ivan who looked away first, stepping back away from Alfred. The room felt suddenly colder without Ivan's body heat bearing down on him. Alfred reached out to catch the fabric of the jersey-knit shirt that Ivan was wearing, but Ivan's hand intercepted his, catching the young man's wrist.

"... Alfred, _no._ Do you not understand anything?" Ivan hissed, keeping his voice low. Alfred's back was to the door and there were still other students wandering around outside. He could feel his breath catching in his throat. "This can't happen. It _can't_. I've let this go to far." 

Ivan let go of Alfred's wrist.

"No more detentions." Ivan continued, shaking his head. "Just go."

 

After several months of dealing with the Alfred Kirkland, Ivan was certain of one thing. The boy was clearly a curse sent by Yao to make him suffer for their last fight. There was absolutely no other explanation.

 

Ivan had moved to the quiet American suburb just outside city limits that summer. His youngest sister was living in the city to be close to her job, while the eldest had a farm. He found a relatively quiet home for a reasonable rate in the area of one of the lakes, the closest to the school he would be teaching at. The weather was warm but mild on the day Ivan was driving his truck to his new home. It didn't get too hot in that part of America, while Ivan enjoyed the warmth he worried too sharp a climate change would cause even more troubles than the heat helped. 

The lake was a beautiful blue, peppered by families playing on the dock and a few rafts on the water. There wasn't much of a 'beach' to speak of, a small strip of a few feet of sand that thirty people could easily cover without trouble. The rest was cattails, lily pads, rocks and tree roots. 

Runners and bicyclists ran alongside of the road, there was dozens of trails that made the area perfect for foot traffic. Ivan wasn't used to seeing so many people just laughing and running together. It helped wash away some of the bad memories from back home in Russia. As he stopped to let a petite brunette woman walking about twenty dogs cross the street, he couldn't really help but notice a young man jogging past his truck. The young man wasn't just attractive - he was attractive enough that for the first time in years Yao was not in Ivan's thoughts at all. The jogger was tanned, hot, blond - very lightly muscled, clearly a runner by his physique... with this cute little cowlick of hair that stuck up and out. The jogger didn't notice Ivan staring at him at all, just kept running along to his music, too breathless to sing along. Ivan was so caught up in watching that toned body that he didn't notice the passing of time until someone honked their horn behind him. 

He only saw the jogger a few more times after that, never when he had time to stop and try to make very awkward conversation. All things considered that was probably for the best, he had his sisters to help settle in as well, and he had to find a new doctor before the school year began so he could arrange for his medication. No matter how good the sunlight made him feel, Natalia reminded him that it would not be around forever and he needed to be ready, and that she would happily move in with Ivan to assist him until he was prepared to be on his own safely.

Ivan found a doctor and arranged to get his mood regulators the next day.

The rest of the summer was spent with work and getting to know his neighbors. The school building was entirely different from the kind he was used to, as was the town itself, but the ladies that lived next door to him were quite friendly. Well, one of them was. It was the woman he had seen walking the dogs. Her name was Alice, the dogs belonged to her 'roommate', and she talked nonstop. Monika, the roommate, was less present. She worked long hours. Of course, Ivan suspected they were a little more than roommates too.

The first day of the school year was a difficult beginning - he'd shown up for teacher orientation every day it was available so at least he knew the building, though the building while teeming with the wildlife of American youth was another thing entirely. It was hard to believe that he himself was ever so small or young, though he was certain he was never so undisciplined. The Ballet Academy would have thrown him out if he had acted like half of these children did. 

He should have known the day would have been bad by the ache in his hip in the morning. Fuck the temperature, the ache was particularly bad. One of Monika's dogs started barking at Too Fucking Early O'Clock. The coffee pot managed to screw up even the simplest cup, and if it wasn't for the fact that mixing his medication and alcohol would just land him in the hospital Ivan would have broken into the vodka. 

By far the worst part of that day was one of his own classes, though.

The hot jogger?

Was a goddamn _student_. 

How the hell could he be just sixteen? Ivan barked out orders for the scrawny teenagers to follow and yanked open his class file the second they were occupied so that he could root through the papers it contained. There it was, the middle of the pile, clear as day. Alfred Kirkland, _**sixteen**_ , not just some idiot who was held back (which would have still been sketchy but slightly less so). How was that even possible? Girls were the ones who went through puberty gracefully, blossoming from girl to woman almost overnight. Boys spent five years looking like cave monsters before they reached adulthood, but Alfred defied all logic in that sense. Ivan was for one brief moment more religious then a priest in his thanks that he had never gotten a chance to talk to Alfred before the beginning of the school year and run the risk of becoming one of those people who had to notify a neighborhood before he moved into it.

_Well, that's settled, you're going to hell. Cut your losses and move on, Ivan._ he told himself. That probably would have been an easy task under normal circumstances. Alfred Kirkland was, in a word, obnoxious. He seemed to exist within a paradox of being extremely popular but having almost no friends aside from a small Asian boy in the same grade as him who had apparently rushed through all his Phys Ed credits and was no longer required to take any of Ivan's classes. Alfred was also very clearly a spoiled brat. He had no sense of hard work, merely content to coast along on natural talent which he had in abundance. It was only when it became clear that simply putting out just enough effort to maintain his spot as king of the hill was not going to impress Ivan that Alfred actually started trying. 

That was where the real frustration began. He was not some amoral pervert, he could ignore that one of his students was attractive in ways he'd prefer to not consider, but then Alfred had to go and put Ivan between a rock and a hard place by developing a stupid childish crush on him as well. At first the crush seemed so obvious that Ivan was suspicious that Alfred was fucking with his head. Staring in the lunch room, staying late in the locker room and showing up early, pushing himself for real to break records and try to impress - Ivan felt like he was walking on eggshells, he'd heard of hazing new teachers before but this kind of psychological warfare was ridiculous. That was alright, though, because it made it easy to hate the kid. It reminded him of the passive-aggressive fights him and Yao had gone through near the end of their relationship. It reminded him very uncomfortably of some of the extremes he himself had gone through to hurt Yao.

The night Ivan picked up Alfred on the side of the road, Ivan realized Alfred was not smart enough for mind games of that caliber. He really was just an attractive young man - no, BOY, HE WAS A _BOY_ , A CHILD - with his heart on his sleeve and absolutely no poker face. It was aggravating. It was endearing. Even worse, to add one more to the list of Alfred Kirkland's many flaws, the boy had no self-awareness. He knew he was attractive before other people told him he was attractive, not because he actually looked in the mirror and recognized that he, personally, looked like he had just stepped off the cover of some airbrushed issue of a Hollywood-obsessed magazine. Only it wasn't PhotoShop, it was just genetics. It was clear why he only had one friend despite being flush with the currency of popularity (good looks, good family, excellent at sports), he didn't know well enough to lie and when he did he did it badly. The kid was a goddamn wreck.

A goddamn adorable endearing wreck-

_KID. HE'S A KID. A kid with a fleeting crush and **you** are **not** a child molester, Ivan Braginski!_ he railed against himself. _It's not his fault for being a hormonal teenager, you are the adult and its your responsibility to be the adult._

Not only that, but it would leave him absolutely no moral high ground against Yao, and even if he was never going to see his ex ever again he was not willing to give that little bit of ammunition up. He couldn't hold it against Yao to pursue a relationship with someone roughly ten years younger than himself if Ivan turned around and doubled that number. 

And thinking of Yao... There were certain similarities with Alfred and Ivan's old flame, much to his chagrin. Though Yao was much better at pretending to be the flawless pillar, both had a bull-headed sense that they knew what was right and that you either followed them or you were an idiot, and yet still had a certain vulnerability that was irresistible when they let you see it. 

He should have really never picked Alfred up when he saw him walking along the road by his house, soaking wet and swaying just a little, with a goddamn lily pad wrapped around one of his legs and clinging to the damp denim. He should have just turned around, told the police that they missed one, and washed his hands of the whole situation. But no, he had to try talking to he teenager, had to let his guard down because Alfred was drunk so who gave a fuck, had to clearly realize THEN that Alfred actually did have a crush on him and wasn't faking it. And then there was Alfred's sob story. Dead mother, absent father - Ivan had lived that story half a world away and more than Alfred's whole lifetime ago. 

It was hard to see it reflected back at him like that. He wanted to comfort Alfred, to tell him that everything would be okay, to keep him from making the same dumb ass decisions that he himself had made to land him where he was. He held on to that feeling as tightly as he could, because that feeling was quite paternal and he was hoping that if he held tight enough to that it would cool the steam that felt like it was building between them whenever Alfred managed to get time alone with Ivan. The detention came from the same paternal worry, an attempt at instilling a sense of discipline that Alfred was clearly lacking at home. _Paternal worry and nothing else,_ he insisted. That's all it was. So he tried to teach Alfred the value of hard work, of restraint, because clearly his father wasn't doing it and if he was a parental substitute then it was a touching and inspiring story and not a disturbing and shameful cautionary tale.

And when Alfred was sick, he couldn't very well let the boy go home alone in the rain and get worse. It wouldn't be right. He was just being a decent human being. Anyone would have done the same. He was ignoring the fact that it probably crossed several professional lines and he could only be happy that Alfred was frequently ignored so that even if he felt the need to tell someone about that incident, they probably wouldn't have listened.

So what if Ivan had used that time to snoop a bit in Alfred's home? Ivan was dropping him off anyway. He could have argued that he had to make sure there weren't any windows open because a draft would be harmful to Alfred's health, but he had crossed that line when he had brought Alfred home in the first place. He was just curious as to what kind of environment raised such a child. The home was pretty and clean but blessedly lived-in, not the quietly macabre look of the houses that seemed more like staging areas for a photo-op. There were little imperfections - a stray dish in the sink left over from breakfast, notes tacked up here and there, a jacket flung over a chair rather than hung up. Quite a few pictures of Alfred and his brother when they were young. A series of family photos, including their absent mother. Matthew had her eyes. 

It was a little curious. Hadn't Alfred said something about being terribly healthy while his brother was the sick one? Ivan was pretty sure he heard that in Alfred's endless stream of babbling. Looking at the oldest photos of the boys together, however, the child that had Alfred's eyes was quite small and frail looking compared to his brother until they were old enough for school. For many years they had the same haircut, it would have been easy to mistake the two. They weren't identical, but both boys took very strongly after their father - the same straw-colored hair and pale pink skin, both had an athletic build, both had the same glasses... Matthew making an attempt to _not_ look like Alfred seemed like a recent development.

In the earlier pictures the professional photos had the whole family - mother and father and children (Matthew always with their mother, Alfred always with their father). Snapshots lacked Arthur. Then all of a sudden there were no more pictures of their mother, and soon enough after that, it was just the boys. 

Ivan headed to the stairs but paused at the bottom step by a glint of metal. On the bannister a small bronze crucifix was fastened to it. There were bits of natural patina showing at the edges, and one name etched upon the surface. _Marianne_. Wasn't that their mother's name? An odd spot for a cross. 

The stairs creaked underfoot with the settling of loose boards beneath the carpeting as Ivan made the climb. Many closed doors faced out to the hallway, but which was Alfred's? Ivan recalled Alfred's sleepy explanation, before his mooning over the stars and space. There was resistance when he tried to open the door that had to be Alfred's, which quickly became apparent as to why when he flicked on the light.

... There were probably war zones that looked like less of a wreck. There would be no finding anything out from that mess aside from the fact that Alfred really didn't care about clutter. Stepping carefully, Ivan made his way inside to grab a blanket off the bed, tip-toe his way out, and turned the light off. 

The light stayed on though. Ivan turned to look and - Alfred's whole room was almost _glowing_ from small daubs of glow-in-the-dark paint all over his walls. They had blended in with the light on, and at first Ivan wasn't sure what they were for. Then he noticed the constellations. It was the night sky, in precise detail. Ivan was dead certain that if he knew what date Alfred had set his room's sky for, he could pull up a star chart and it would match. 

Ivan had genuinely thought before that day that Alfred was a stupid teenager with no sense of how the real world worked, with no idea how real _emotions_ worked. That he was just giving into every fleeting feeling and demanding that it be treated with the same respect as real ones. 

But Alfred had talked so passionately about space, about the stars, and seeing this - maybe he wasn't just some overly emotional teenager after all. Maybe he did understand desire to a certain extent. Maybe he - _NO_. Ivan wanted to smash his own head into the wall. He was _not_ allowing himself to think that about Alfred. That's how it always went, didn't it? That was the logic child molesters used to justify their actions. 'They wanted it' 'they're just so mature' 'they seduced me' as if they were somehow incapable of making their own decisions and helpless to the whims of a child. He was not like that, and despite Alfred's earlier protests a child _was_ what he was. That was that. 

Ivan stormed down the stairs, tucked Alfred in as best as the couch allowed for, and maybe he brushed the hair out of Alfred's eyes, maybe he thought too long on the wistful sound of Alfred's voice when he was talking about space, maybe he was going to that special hell reserved for certain priests of the catholic church no matter what the Pope tried to say about the matter. 

There were other incidents later, too. The hockey game was one of the more troubling ones, seeing Alfred's family in such conflict. An old fight played over again in the cinema of memory and in this second life that wasn't Ivan's. ' _History is destined to repeat itself_ ' as the saying goes. He hated most of all having to admit to Katyusha that she had been right. _She_ thought Alfred was very cute and was no help whatsoever. 

He knew giving Alfred his birthday was a bad idea, too, but he had done it anyway hadn't he? Sure enough, he had come in to school that Friday in early December and found his desk covered with sunflowers, a card stating 'Happy Early Birthday' with no signature. They were out of season, it was a gift too costly for a student to give a teacher to just be appreciative of them. He'd tried to hunt Alfred down later, to tell him that under no circumstances was that behavior acceptable, but Alfred continued to be completely oblivious to the weight and consequences of his own actions. Even as Ivan tried to yell at him, he kept making bedroom eyes, lips forming a pout that begged to be kissed, clearly feeling absolutely no shame about the lines he was crossing so haphazardly he might as well have been skipping rope. 

And so there Ivan was, perused by an underage suitor who was exactly his type if only Alfred were older or Ivan was younger, and a disturbing mix of things that reminded him of Ivan and things that reminded him of Yao. 

What the heck was a billionaire's son doing being raised in suburbia, anyway?


	12. "I have a plan. But it will require your unquestioning cooperation and no explanation of my actions."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred tells Kiku of the Flower Incident, and Kiku enacts a cunning plan. Winter break begins.

Kiku sat with Alfred outside of the convenience store, Slurpees in hand. Kiku had cherry, or what passed for cherry but tasted closer to cherry cough syrup. Alfred had Blizzard Berry Blast or something else equally alliterative that explained the unnaturally blue shade of the drink. Alfred honestly couldn't care less what it claimed to taste like, all Slurpees tasted like either Pixie Stix with crushed ice or Pixie Stix with crushed iced AND citrus as far as he was concerned, but blue was his favorite color so blue was the flavor he got. 

"He hated the flowers." Alfred told Kiku, utterly morose. His whole body was sad, slumped in on itself, no energy to hold up more strength than was absolutely necessary to remain mostly upright and not spill his Slurpee everywhere. He managed to emote such sadness that even the casual observer could easily picture a little gray storm cloud over his head, like in Winnie the Pooh. Kiku managed to stifle a laugh at that thought. 

"Ah?" he prompted instead. Alfred never stopped at one short line unless he wanted prompting to go further. If he just wanted to talk and didn't care about the listener he would steamroll the conversation and give no room for reply. 

"He might have liked the flowers," Alfred amended, stirring his Slurpee but letting it melt in favor of drinking it. "But he hated that they were from ME."

_Ah_ , there was the reason for Alfred's mood.

"He rejected you?" Kiku asked, thinking better than adding 'again' to the end of that question. Alfred nodded sadly. "Perhaps it is for the best." Kiku tried to reason with Alfred again.

"No, it isn't! IT WAS PERFECT! I even gave them to him early because I fuckin' know how much it sucks to have your birthday too close to a holiday! I was so THOUGHTFUL! How clear do I have to be that I want this?! I want this _SO GODDAMN MUCH!_ " Alfred ran a shaking hand through his hair, unable to stop replaying the earlier confrontation with Mister Braginski over and over in his mind's eye as he tried to think of what he could have done to make everything better instead of just worse. He had a hard time accepting failure, and part of that was because of how unfamiliar he was with it unless it was a failure he could spin as a success or otherwise revel in. 

"Alfred -" Kiku stirred his own drink as he tried to think of how to put the words. "I think all you can do is... wait. Until you grow up. If you still want him when you're graduated maybe he'll consider..." 

"But I want it _now_!"

_'Because no one else has ever denied you anything before?'_ Kiku wondered, but kept the thought to himself. He was just as guilty as everyone else in Alfred's life of being too permissive. 

"Alfred... your Slurpee is melting." Kiku pointed out quietly instead. Alfred poked at the blue mix of slush with his straw, entirely disinterested.

"...Whatever."

" _Al._ Sleep on it. I'll tell you what, on Monday I will give you your Christmas present early. I am certain it will cheer you up." Kiku said, nudging Alfred's shoulder with his own. Alfred tried to maintain a pout, but the corners of his lips quivered into a smile in spite of his efforts. 

"Really? What is it?"

" _Tch_ , I am already giving you your present early, you can wait until Monday to find out what it is." Kiku chided gently. "But you have to tell me one thing honestly - are you actually in love with Mister Braginski, or are you just in love with the idea of being in love?"

"What's the difference?" Alfred asked, confused expression telling Kiku all he needed to know for now. 

"Just think about it, and tell me on Monday. C'mon, I'll walk you home."

 

` **INTERVIEW DATED DECEMBER TENTH, 2010** `

**INTERVIEWER:** I'm happy to have a chance today to introduce Arthur Kirkland, CEO of the American branch of the Chalybs Foundation. Arthur has graciously allowed us a chance to interview him about his family and home life, a real treat considering how quiet he is about such things. As one of the ten richest men in America, Mister Kirkland, you occupy quite a spot in the public's mindset. Yet you don't make a habit of pubic appearances or 'living the high life', can you tell us a bit about that?

**Kirkland:** Ah. I've always been of the mindset - and this is one that my father has passed on to me - that the head of a company must understand his personnel and the people he is responsible for. I don't see how living the Hollywood life of a several hundred acre mansion can hope to assist in understanding the day to day troubles that may come up to my workers. Additionally, Marianne didn't think much of children raised into wealth and wanted our sons to have as close to a 'normal childhood' as possible. She had also requested that they be kept out of the public eye, so to speak, for the same reasons.

**INTERVIEWER:** How long has it been now since your wife's passing? 

**Kirkland:** Just over two and a half years. 

**INTERVIEWER:** I know you've probably heard this quite a bit in the last year, but I'm very sorry for your loss. 

**Kirkland:** It's rather difficult - the culture between England and America is quite different. Here you're allowed and expected to be open with your feelings, while 'across the pond' it's more respectable to keep it all inside. I apologize if I sound cold for that reason, it's just my upbringing shining through. 

**INTERVIEWER:** Would you tell us a little bit about that? How did you meet Marianne, if you're alright talking about it?

**Kirkland:** Ah, yes, that's fine. It was something of an arranged marriage, actually. If either of us wanted to we could have said no, mind, but we were both very obedient children and were more inclined to listen to the decisions of our parents than anything else. We met for the first time when I came to America after I got accepted into Harvard. I stopped off in Quebec to meet her. Our first meeting went rather poorly, actually. ... I remember thinking 'there's no way this will be anything but a marriage of convenience'. Marianne had particular ideas about her life and herself and she wasn't willing to bend on either point. We spent more time arguing than talking. I think it was that stubbornness and animosity that ended up attracting me. I wasn't in the habit of being talked to that way. It was... refreshing. 

**INTERVIEWER:** That's beautiful. Do you talk about her often with your sons?

**Kirkland:** Not as much as I should, I think. Again, I was raised to believe such things aren't proper. Besides, both of my boys are getting to the age where they have no time for their father. 

**INTERVIEWER:** You have two sons, as you said - Matthew and Alfred if I'm not mistaken. Could you tell us about them?

**Kirkland:** Ah, yes. Well, they're the same age. Twins. Like night and day. Matthew is very quiet and focused. A young diplomat already. He's very good at finding compromise between two viewpoints, I don't think there's any argument that he can't diffuse. He's humble - too humble sometimes, I think, but that's hardly the worst flaw a person can have. I have faith he'll grow into his voice. 

**INTERVIEWER:** And Alfred?

**Kirkland:** _[He laughs]_ Ah, Alfred. Yes, he is ... very enthusiastic about everything. He demands the attention of a room when he enters into it, and he takes risks that others are afraid to and reaps the benefits for doing so. He's very interested in the stars... always has been. He's very intelligent, and very talented. I'm certain that he'll succeed at whatever he attempts to do, though convincing him to sit still long enough to decide _what_ to do is a problem sometimes. 

**To continue reading this article, please visit a word from our sponsors...**

 

"Ugh, why'd you link me that, Kiku? That article is from like _years_ ago." Alfred muttered as he talked to Kiku over Skype that weekend, skimming the site then closing the window in favor of going back to playing flash games. "'Boo hoo I'm finally acting like I have a soul because it's been long enough after my wife died that people are wondering if that's the case, and I don't want my stocks to drop'."

"After the hyperlink he implies he's not sure he's a good father... I was thinking maybe you two had some things you could talk about?" Kiku prompted, watching through the web cam as Alfred did his best to look as disinterested as possible at the very idea. 

"Yeah, like the fact that I _know_ he's a shitty father? That'd go over well." Alfred rolled his eyes, then cringed as that lack of focus cost him a life in the game he was playing. "Look, I don't want to fucking talk about dad anymore, okay? What about you? You doin' anything for winter break?" 

"Ah... yes, mom and dad and I will be going to San Francisco to spend Christmas and New Year with grandmother and grandfather." Kiku said. He had been meaning to tell Alfred that, but he was worried how the other boy would react. A quick attempt to hide the pout, not looking at Kiku through the web cam - he was upset. 

"Oh. Don't they normally come here?" 

"Yes, but... It's starting to look like Grandfather is developing Alzheimer's, so traveling might be too stressful for them now." Kiku explained. "... I'm certain mom and dad wouldn't mind if you came along, I could ask."

"No, no, it's family time, right? Just... say hi to your grandparents for me, okay? Even if your grandpa doesn't remember me. Tell him I'm awesome. And that I'm a superhero. Oh, no, no, tell him I'm training to be in Starfleet." Alfred grinned. He got along well with all of Kiku's family, but especially Kiku's grandfather who had watched the original series when it aired for the first time, who could remember the significance of seeing George Takei sharing the screen with William Shatner as one of the _heroes_. 

Kiku laughed. "I don't think anyone could forget you, Alfred, but I will keep that in mind. What about you, the usual?" Kiku inquired softly. 

"Yeah," Alfred said. "The usual."

'The usual' had been Christmas almost five years running, now. Matthew would leave early on in Christmas break to go stay with their mother's parents in Quebec until after New Year. Arthur worked long hours to make up for those who were spending Christmas with their family. Alfred stayed home, alone. 

He didn't particularly like it, but that's what he was used to. 

When Kiku's grandparents would come visit, he could mitigate the loneliness by spending a lot of time with his best friend, but if he was going to be gone this year...

"Are you sure you don't want to come to San Francisco? My parents really _wouldn't_ mind, and it'd be warm so you wouldn't have to deal with the rain." Kiku offered, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.

"No, dude, it's totally cool, I can blast Guitar Hero as loud as I want and Matt won't be around to yell at me for getting in the way of his study-time, it'll be great." Alfred said, grinning and giving Kiku a thumbs-up. 

It wasn't okay, and it wasn't going to be great, but Alfred was determined to convince Kiku that it would be. Pressing him a third time when he refused help the first two times just got Alfred angry. So Kiku sighed and nodded. 

"Very well... but don't think this means you'll beat my high score, you've still got a long way to go."

 

Monday in the lunch room brought Kiku with both a plan and a package for Alfred. It was going to be a risky endeavor if he could manage it, but Alfred always looked out for him - so it was his job to look after Alfred. 

Kiku slid the wrapped box across the table, it was slightly larger than a DS game case. 

"Oh man! Oh man, oh man! Can I open it now?" Alfred asked, moodiness completely forgotten in the face of PRESENT. He shook it, gently. Something inside was moving and it felt heavy, but he couldn't place it by sound or weight. 

"Open it when you feel you will need it most." Kiku said sagely. 

"How can I know if I need it right now if I don't know what it is?" Alfred whined, continuing to gently shake the box next to his ear before holding it up to the light as if that would somehow impart him x-ray vision. It didn't work.

"You will feel it." Kiku was trying VERY hard to not smile, but seeing Alfred act so excited was kind of adorable. Alfred gave the box one more good shake, eyed the tape holding the paper closed, then put it into his backpack. 

"I don't think I need it yet." He declared his decision aloud, as if Kiku couldn't have figured that out by now. 

"How have you been?" Kiku inquired, remembering how under the emotional weather Alfred had been over the weekend. 

"Total ass. I haven't even masturbated since Friday morning before school." Alfred bemoaned. That was pretty much over sharing, but Kiku was used to it by now. And for Alfred, not touching himself for more than a day _was_ kind of a big deal. 'Enough sexuality for ten people', Kiku reminded himself. 

"That is serious." Kiku agreed smoothly, having his daily moment of thanking the universe that no one ever tried to listen in to his and Alfred's conversations. "How about Mister Braginski, have you decided what you are going to do about him yet?" 

"Dunno. I was gonna try to talk to him later, I got Phys Ed next so I figure I can probably corner him and see if he's still mad at me..." Alfred thought aloud, folding his arms on the table and using them as a makeshift pillow for his head while he watched out the large windows to the class that had Mister Braginski during lunch. He was wearing long sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt today, which unfortunately didn't outline his muscles quite as nicely as the jersey fabric. Alfred made a small whining sound in the back of his throat that he totally didn't intend on making. 

" _Hm >_ I am pretty sure you are walking the thin line between appreciation and harassment." Kiku pointed out, following Alfred's gaze. Braginski had his back to the window, likely on purpose. 

"Yeah, well..." Alfred huffed as he tried to think of some reasonable argument, and came up with nothing. "We'll burn that bridge when we get to it."

Kiku debated the consequences of his actions. On the one hand, he could just let things be. As-is, Alfred would probably completely kill any chances he had with Ivan, be exceedingly depressed for a while, then get over it as Alfred was a very resilient young man. Though... The more Kiku watched as Alfred mooned over the teacher, the more Kiku was wondering if he had actually convinced himself that he was in love.

"Do you know, Alfred? If you really love him or just love the idea of loving him?" Kiku asked quietly, just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the lunch room. Alfred didn't look up to Kiku, keeping his eyes half-lidded, his expression dreamy as he watched Ivan. 

"I still don't really understand what the difference is supposed to be." 

Kiku sighed, closing his eyes. What was the saying, 'Go big or go home'? Sometimes, just sometimes, he wanted to just go home. 

"I have a plan. But it will require your unquestioning cooperation and no explanation of my actions." Kiku told Alfred very seriously. _That_ got Alfred's attention. That was Kiku's Commander Voice, the voice that came with winning plans for strike raids. Alfred sat up, turned away from watching Ivan and giving Kiku his full attention. 

"Rock me, Amadeus." Alfred said.

"First, I will need you to go easy on Braginski until vacation. Don't stalk him where he can see it, don't needlessly harass him." Kiku told Alfred very seriously. That was the most important part of the plan. Ivan was tense, it was visible even from this distance. He knew about Alfred's feelings and had never seemed particularly for or against them - conflicted. But if Alfred pushed them to the breaking point it could get explosive. This required a hands-off conflict. 

Alfred hesitated, but nodded. Good. 

"Secondly - how good is your father with getting your glasses repaired if they break?" Kiku asked. Alfred thought it over for a moment before answering. 

"Probably could get a new pair in two days, max, depending on when I tell him I need a new them. My prescription hasn't changed and he can get an assistant to pick them up for him." And Arthur's finances generally let him expedite the process, not that Alfred understood how that worked. He was only very distantly aware of how much money his family actually had. He just always had what he needed financially and never thought past that, having enough privilege to be completely ignorant of its existence. 

"Very good. I am going to need to hit you in the face with a baseball, preferably breaking your glasses and giving you a black eye." Kiku told Alfred. 

"Do the frames have to break? Because they're steel, a baseball won't break the frames but it will put a good crack in the lens." The question didn't have any hesitation to it - Alfred completely trusted his friend. If Kiku said he was going to give Alfred a black eye as part of his plan, Alfred was willing to go with it. He'd had worse than a black eye for far less reasons. 

"The lenses should be fine. I will need you to do one more thing in addition to this." 

"Yeah?"

Kiku put his hand over Alfred's on the table and held it tight. _'Go big or go home.'_

"Trust me." Kiku said. 

Alfred grinned.

"Already there, Broski. All hail the chairman."

Kiku smiled. Now, he just had to trust Alfred. 

 

They decided to enact Kiku's plan after school that day. Alfred knew whatever Kiku came up with would be awesome, because HE was awesome and Kiku was awesome so obviously whatever plan they did had a 100% chance of success even if Alfred had no idea what that plan was or what the end goal was exactly except 'make things better' and 'make Ivan be able to look at me again'. Gym was practically torture. Ivan didn't even acknowledge Alfred more than he had to so that no one would ask questions. If anything, _Alfred's_ behavior gained more attention. His showboating was normal for him, being relatively tame was completely against the norm. Then Max had to go be a dick bag.

"You and your Japanese boyfriend have a fight, Kirkland?" Max asked while out on the field. 

Ivan called the brawl off within seconds, which was good because the only reason Alfred didn't break Max's nose with the first hit was that Max had to fuckin' dodge like a pussy and he only managed to clip the other boy's cheek. 

"Kirkland! Hit the showers!" Ivan barked out, and for a second Alfred considered ignoring him and going for the broken nose, but Kiku's plan probably couldn't be in effect if Alfred was dealing with the consequences of a fight. He lowered his fist and stormed off the field. He had meant to storm off without giving a second glance back, but... how was he supposed to resist?

"You aren't going to send him to the principal's office?! He fuckin' hit me!" Max yelled at Ivan. The whole class went silent. Ivan had established one thing in his reign as teacher - you did _not_ raise your voice to him, even if you were one of his favorites like Max was. 

" _Language_." Ivan chided. "If he goes to the office then so do you, Mister Ramirez, for instigating said fight. Perhaps you should not trash talk if you are not prepared for the consequences of doing so." 

Max grimaced, but he didn't argue further, ducking his head down and looking away. 

"... I'm good, Sir."

"Very well, everyone, back to work. NOW!" Ivan was fucking _smiling_ as he ordered everyone into double time. 

Alfred didn't know if Ivan felt his eyes on him, or if he was just looking over anyway. Either way, he turned to see Alfred paused at the door to the locker room, looking at him with what had to be longing. Every time he looked at Ivan that's what he _felt_. 

Ivan's smile faded.

' _Go._ ' Ivan mouthed, turning away from Alfred and turning his attention back to the class. 

Alfred had to love Ivan, he was certain, completely certain of it. Nothing else could hurt so much. 

 

Okay a black eye could come close. Ow. Ow. Ow. 

"Nurse Liz!" Kiku called, helping Alfred into the nurse's office after school. Alfred wasn't limping or anything but he couldn't really see out of his left eye and his glasses had a nice clean crack in the lens, so he had to take them off and he was a little more nearsighted then he'd have liked as far as navigation abilities without them. 

The nurse stood, eyes widening at Alfred's very quickly forming black eye. 

"Goodness boys, what did you _do_? Come in, come in - where are his glasses, they didn't shatter did they? If glass got in there..." Liz took Alfred's other hand and lead him into the office, directing him to sit on one of the cots while she got her tools. 

"Kiku was helping me practice some pitches." Alfred explained with a pained half-grin, pulling his glasses out of his pocket and showing them to the nurse to let her see the lenses were only cracked. Cracked, bashed into the bone around his socket enough to cause some hellacious busing, but no missing glass to worry about scarring or bleeding. "It was totally my bad." 

"You _two_." Nurse Liz sighed, shaking her head, but she was smiling. Relieved to see that it wasn't as bad as it could have been. There was something to be said regarding their track record for how believable their situation was. 

"I'll call his dad." Kiku volunteered. "But, uh, my cellphone's battery died, can I use the office phone?" 

"Oh, sure thing, go ahead. Thank you." 

Kiku smiled. He ducked out of the nurse's office, which was connected to the actual office. Which currently only had one very busy secretary in it. 

"Ma'am? Alfred Kirkland got hurt, I was going to call his father for him, may I use the phone?" Kiku asked when she finally looked up to see what he wanted. 

"Oh? Sure, sure! There's one over there." she gestured to the desk behind hers and went back to work. 

Kiku was very trusted by adults. 

He walked behind the partition that separated the desks. He chose this particular time of day because he knew the office layout from volunteering regularly in it, and he knew they were very understaffed at that hour, and no one was at the back desk. He sat down in the chair and picked up the phone, dialing Arthur's number. Unless you rang through with an emergency it went right to voice mail and that's what Kiku was counting on. In the meantime, he watched the secretary (very busy) and Nurse Liz (entirely occupied with Alfred). 

The moment was right. Kiku ducked down and went for the files that had the teacher information. Locked, but the keys were in the second drawer if he remembered correctly, and sure enough there they were. He unlocked the cabinet, glanced up to make sure he was still ignored, and went rooting through the files. 

"Ah, hello Mister Kirkland, this is Kiku Honda, Alfred's friend." Kiku said when the voice mail left the appropriate beep to indicate it was time to talk. A, B - there we go, Braginski. "We had a little accident at school today - nothing serious, but I'm afraid Alfred got hit in the face with a baseball. He's fine aside from the black eye - he's in with the nurse right now - but I did break his glasses. I'm very sorry. I will see that he gets home alright." 

He pulled out the contact information sheet, dropped it in the copy/fax machine, hit go and hung up the phone. Seconds later he had what he needed, returning the file cabinet to just as it was when he arrived and folding up the copy he'd made neatly, sliding it into his back pocket. One quick double-check to ensure that everything was exactly as it was when he had arrived and Kiku stood, going back to the Nurse's office with a stop by the main desk. 

"Thank you." He told the secretary when she had a free moment. She waved him off. He went into the nurse's office and gave Alfred a thumbs-up where Nurse Liz couldn't see. 

"I had to leave a message with your father's voice mail." He told Alfred, as if that wasn't the norm. "I promised him that I would see you home safely as well."

"Thanks man, you're the best." Alfred told Kiku with a wide grin. 

"Even if I hit you in the face with a baseball?" Kiku asked.

"Dude, _especially_ because of that, that was a radical throw. I should recruit you for the team."

Nurse Liz just laughed and shook her head at them, making sure Alfred had a cold compress for his eye and shooing them out before it got too dark. 

 

True to his promise to Kiku, Alfred didn't question the need to injure him. He assumed it had accomplished what Kiku set out to accomplish what with the thumbs up. Giving Ivan his space was a lot harder. He couldn't help zoning out as he watched the way Braginski moved, even when he was angry he just made Alfred want him more. Why did it have to matter that Ivan was twenty-something years older than him? Shakespeare was totally all about that shit and that was classic. _The dove pursues the griffin_ and shit. Though he didn't really think of himself as a dove exactly, maybe the smaller griffin pursues the griffin. _Ooh_ , or the eagle, eagles were pretty bad ass. Though that was more about gender roles.

He came really close to opening Kiku's present a few times. Honestly, what the fuck _could_ it be? He held back, though. If it was important, he wanted to save it. Horde the items until the boss battles and all that. 

 

Matthew left on the first day of winter break. Alfred took the bus with him to the airport and saw him off. He never went with Matthew to Quebec. He said it was because he didn't want to go, but in truth he had also never been invited. He didn't think on which came first, preferring to go with the worldview that he didn't do something because he chose not to do it, not because that avenue was closed to him. 

 

Kiku left a little later, the day before Christmas eve. Alfred saw them to the airport too, keeping his friend company in the several hours that his parents had gotten there early to be on the safe side. 

"Trust me." Kiku reminded Alfred. "And call me if you ever need to talk, okay? My grandparents don't have good WiFi, but I'll have my phone on at all times. Even if it's the middle of the night." 

Alfred nodded. "I'm fine, dude. Really. And I'm totally blowing your Guitar Hero score out of the water."

 

The first day alone was okay. A day like any other. 

The morning of Christmas eve, Alfred woke up to a blanket of white draped over their street as far as the eye could see, flurries still falling from the pale gray sky above. No tire tracks in the driveway, dad was long gone for the day, and if it kept up he might even have to stay at the office all night. 

Alfred pillowed his arms on the windowsill and tried to not think of how alone he was.


	13. "She has, in the past, stabbed someone."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred is totally not some kind of princess in a tower in need of rescuing okay not at all but IF HE WAS Ivan kinda totally rescued him. Alfred meets Ivan's family and learns a little bit more about him, including his feelings.

Alfred tried to keep his mind off things. He had breakfast of a whole box of Pop-Tarts because no one was around to stop him, then drank a glass of of milk and yelled "ANOTHER!" in his best Thor impression before throwing it to the floor and watching it bounce because the glass was actually made of plastic. That of course had him then sitting there on the kitchen floor for about an hour wondering why they were still called 'glasses' in standard speech. After that navel-gazing session he played some Guitar Hero but he couldn't find the rhythm and still didn't get anywhere near Kiku's high score. 

It was like the shittiest Christmas Eve ever and it was only the very early afternoon, not that you could tell by how dark the sky was. The snow showed no sign of stopping. 

That was it, Alfred was going to tear open Kiku's present. He dug the present out from his backpack from where he had left it in an attempt to not tempt himself, taking it downstairs to curl up on the couch while he carefully tugged the wrapping paper off rather than shredding it like normally. This was, theoretically, important. So it deserved some kind of respect, right?

The box was square and brown paper, nondescript. There used to be a sticker on it but Kiku had peeled it off, whether it was price tag or logo Alfred didn't know. They both left the same kind of sticky after-sticker residue.

He turned the box over a few times in his hand then peeled the tape off of the top, pulling it open and tilting it to pour the contents of it into his hand. 

Alfred's breath caught in this throat as he whispered " _The Gem._ "

It was a necklace with a heavy metal pendant on the end, hence the weight. Two snakes tied together in an infinity knot, biting each others tails. One was black, the other was white. one had green eyes, the other red. As Alfred's fingers ran across the surface he could feel engraving on the back. 

"No way. _No way._ " He flipped the medallion over to see - yes. Engraved on the back - _Tu, was du willst_ , 'Do What You Wish', the only German that Alfred knew aside from names of food. 

Was that what Kiku had meant when he said to save it for when he felt he really _needed_ it? It was just a prop replica - a damn good one, in the style of the movie but with the _correct_ coloring from the book - there was no way it could be real. 

... But it wasn't like anyone was around to witness if Alfred made an idiot of himself, right? 

He carefully unclasped the chain the necklace was on, looping it around his neck and closing it back up. It actually wasn't as heavy as he would have thought when he was wearing it. The chain distributed the weight pretty well. Alfred held the pendant tight in his hand, closing his eyes as he focused on the feeling of it. 

"... _Please_... I just... I just don't want to be alone."

Several long minutes of silence passed. Alfred let go of his held his breath. 

Then let out a shout of surprise as a loud bang on the door interrupted the otherwise dead silence. 

Alfred glanced down at the replica of AURYN around his neck, then jumped to his feet and ran to the door. His foot caught on one of the runners on the tile of the hallway and for a moment he was sliding on momentum, but he managed to catch himself on the wall and grab the door knob, throwing it open even as he was half-bent over trying to catch his breath and will his heartbeat to slow down. 

Mister Braginski stood there, face flushed from the cold, knit scarf wrapped tight around his neck over a long wool winter coat. He looked angry-and-something-else, like how he normally looked when he looked at Alfred. Alfred could never tell what the something else was. 

Alfred opened his mouth to talk, to try and find SOMETHING to say rather than just stand at the doorway staring at Ivan. 

Ivan cut him off before he found something stupid to say. 

"Get together an overnight bag in case the roads close down, you've got fifteen minutes." Ivan snapped. 

"...What?" Alfred stared at Alfred. He heard the words but he didn't quite understand them as simple as they were. _What?_

"You have fifteen minutes and I'm leaving whether you're with me or not." Ivan said tersely. Alfred stared at Ivan for another thirty seconds before turning and running up the stairs to throw a bag together in record time. Laptop, cellphone and chargers - he unplugged his desktop from the wall as he worked, it was already shut off but if the power went out he wanted to avoid a power surge. After a second of thought he went into Matthew's room and did the same for his. " _TEN MINUTES!_ " Ivan called from the bottom of the staircase. Alfred generally had a overnight bag ready at all times for emergency sleepovers with Kiku, all that required was the entertainment to be added into it and the clothes to be cycled out for the seasons. He yanked a hoodie over his head, grabbed his Gryffindor scarf and ran down the steps taking them two at a time, doing a pretty graceful fucking pirouette around the corner to dart into his dad's study and making sure all of that was unplugged as well, running back to the door just as Ivan was starting to yell "FIVE-!"

"Sorry." Alfred said breathlessly, staring up at Ivan. "Had to unplug everything in case there's a power outage." 

Ivan held out is hand to Alfred, who only stared at it, unsure of what the gesture was supposed to mean. 

"Your bag." Ivan prompted. Alfred blushed and handed it over. Hands now free, he flicked off the last light switch and closed the door behind him. Locked, quiet, empty and dark. That was the house. Home, right? 

But he couldn't bother to feel bad about leaving it in that state, not when he had Ivan to follow as quickly and as carefully as he could down the steps and to his waiting truck. 

Ivan stashed Alfred's bag behind the seats in the front carriage. It had been a short enough time that the heat kicked on instantly when he turned it back on rather than needing to wait a few minutes for it to start back up. When Alfred was buckled in, he backed the truck out of the driveway and started onto the road that would take them to the unincorporated county where all the farms were. His truck was made for off-roading and there were chains on the tires. Driving in the snow was a non issue at the moment, though if it kept falling so hard later that night might be a different story. 

Alfred remained quiet, waiting for an explanation that apparently wasn't going to come without asking. 

"...Um..." Alfred started. 

"What is with that? Around your neck?" Ivan interrupted before he could ask why Ivan had picked him up. Alfred glanced down and saw that he hadn't taken the necklace off or stashed it under his clothing. 

"Oh! Kiku got this for me for Christmas, it's AURYN!" Alfred explained. 

"What is an Auryn?"

"Nono, you gotta say it _strong_ , like, all-caps strong. It's from The Never Ending Story, it's the symbol of the Childlike Empress and - uh, you probably don't care, huh?" Alfred cut himself off before he went off the deep end for babble, remembering Kiku's warning to keep the harassment to a minimum. 

Ivan didn't answer, just giving a soft 'hmm'. When they stopped at a stop sign right before the main road, Ivan shifted the truck into park. There were no other cars on the road - anyone who needed to go anywhere had gone while the getting was good before the several inches of snow on the ground had piled up, no one knew how to drive in the snowy weather around town. Alfred held his breath as Ivan reached over to the passenger seat the he occupied, but he was just reaching past Alfred - to the glove box where he had a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. 

"...When did you start smoking?" Alfred asked quietly. He couldn't have been smoking when he was a dancer, that would have completely screwed over his lungs and Alfred knew enough about ballet to know that it was pretty brutal - just as hard as other forms of dance but on top of it all you had to make it look absolutely effortless. 

Ivan shrugged, waiting until he had finished lighting his cigarette and started driving again before answering. 

"Probably around the time you were born. I had to stop drinking, and it was easier to just switch addictions than stop one." The road was long and straight, so Ivan allowed himself a glance over to Alfred out of the corner of his eye. Alfred was still looking at Ivan, and didn't look away when Ivan looked at him. "You ask so many questions. Are you going to ask why I came to get you and where we are going?"

Alfred shrugged.

"...Maybe. I was trying to decide if I wanted to know or not." he admitted, finally looking away from Ivan and watching the snowflakes fall - it had lightened, but the sky was such a dark gray from the cloud coverage that it looked like it was already sundown. 

"Mmm. What is that amulet supposed to do?" Ivan asked, gesturing in the direction of the necklace when he had a free moment.

"Like, in the book? It... uh, well! It grants wishes, more or less. I mean, it's more than that, but."

"Did you wish for something?"

"... Promise not to laugh at me?" 

"Mm. I promise."

"Yeah. I wished to not be alone." 

Ivan let out that deep sigh, the one that made Alfred's stomach tie in knots. 

"Your friend who got you the necklace, he called me."

 

One hour earlier, Ivan was getting together what he would be bringing to Christmas Eve dinner with his sisters. They were all poor from the move, so they all decided to forgo presents this year. Of course, that would mean that Yekaterina had probably knitted something for him and Natalia, and Natalia had made them both mix CDs. What they both told Ivan they wanted from him was just his presence, for him to stay sober, and to keep healthy. 

He took his medication before grabbing his coat. That was when his phone rang. 

Ivan debated ignoring it - it was probably Natasha already at Katyusha's, wanting to know if Ivan was on his way or not. But... what if it was an emergency? He sighed and grabbed it without checking the caller ID, so certain he was on who was going to be at the other end of the line. 

" _Slushayu vas_." He answered while yanking his coat on, waiting for the incoming demand to know where he was. 

It didn't come.

"Ivan Braginski?" The voice was light and hesitant. Ivan could swear he'd heard the voice before but he couldn't place where thanks to the slightly degraded audio quality. 

"...Speaking. Who is this?" 

"Kiku Honda, Alfred's friend."

"How did you get this number-?"

"Sir to be perfectly honest I'm in a rush, and I imagine you are too. Would you like to discuss ill-gotten gains or can we get to the point?" 

Ivan hesitated, hand on the door as he held his cellphone to his ear. 

"...Proceed." 

"Right now, Alfred Kirkland is alone at home. His brother left for Quebec a few days ago, and I am unfortunately wrapped up in family duties eight hundred and fifty miles too far south to be there for him. His father will be working, but unless he leaves within the next two hours, according to the weather reports online the roads will be too blocked up for him to safely get back." Kiku's words were punctuated by the sounds of fingers hitting the keyboard. "He will realize this in about three hours, if I know him. And I do know him." 

"So what are you suggesting I do?" Ivan asked, looking out the window. The snowfall was so soft and gentle - nothing like the harsh blizzards he had seen regularly every winter back home. This pocket of suburbia between forest and city was not made to handle the same kind of weather, however.

"I'm not suggesting anything." Kiku said, his voice even and calm. "Merely telling you that right now someone who, for some reason, cares quite a bit about you is going to be alone until tomorrow evening at the absolute earliest unless you do something about it."

"This is bordering on harassment, you know."

"Are you _really_ going to admit or report that two sixteen year olds are 'harassing' you, Mister Braginski?" His tone made it quite clear that he already knew that answer. "I don't care how you feel or what you do. The person I care about in this equation is my friend. Happy Holidays, Mister Braginski."

A soft beep and the line went dead. 

Ivan ended the call on his end, holding his phone while he kept watching the snow fall gently from the sky, carpeting the evergreens and grass below. 

He dialed his older sister's number.

"Katyusha? Yes, it's me, I haven't left yet. I'm sorry to do this at such a last minute, but I'm going to be bringing another person with me."

 

Alfred listened to Ivan's story, a smile slowly spreading on his face. 

"... Kiku called you?"

"Did I not just explain that? Yes." 

Alfred looked down at the necklace he had, his whole demeanor brighter than Ivan had seen it in days. 

"He knew. He totally knew. When I'd open it and what I'd ask for." Alfred looked up at Ivan, and Ivan had to look away and keep his focus on the road, to try and not get too wrapped up in how much he loved seeing Alfred smile like that. 

"He's a very dedicated friend." Ivan agreed, though not without some sense of dread. No matter what course of action he took with Alfred, it was clear Kiku could potentially be trouble. Alfred didn't think anything of telling the other boy everything, and while Alfred was adorably self-centered and completely oblivious to the world around him until he cleared the ozone layer, Kiku was very observant, and - if his two conversations with Ivan were any indication - more than willing to use the information he gained to whatever ends he needed. 

They were a dangerous combination. But Ivan couldn't seem to stay away. The days without Alfred demanding his attention had been a nice breather but it wasn't the same. Even in the gray of winter, Alfred's smile was like a ray of sunlight Ivan desperately needed. 

He was going to hell and that's all there was to it. 

"I should warn you, Natasha will hate you." Ivan said, but Alfred was too happy to really listen. 

 

"Vanya! And Alfred! It is good to see you again!" Yekaterina greeted them both with a hug, which told Alfred right away that beyond a shadow of a doubt her tits were real and god damn that was an awkward thought to have standing right next to Ivan. 

"Hey Katy!" Alfred greeted with a smile. Another man might feel awkward in his position, but Alfred had too little self-awareness to understand that he should feel awkward right then, so it was alright. The sad truth of the matter wasn't _just_ that Alfred was as brave as everyone assumed he was - while the danger wouldn't stop him, half the time he legitimately didn't realize that there was any danger to be risking. 

"Come in, come in, get out of the cold." Yekaterina smiled warmly, opening the door wider and allowing the two to step inside. 

The farm house was worn with age, Alfred knew of the previous owner of it. Both his children had moved out and to the city back when Alfred's dad was a kid - he lived alone until he passed away a couple years ago. Alfred was happy to see the place was bought by someone who was taking care of it, the guy was kinda crazy but nice as far as old crazy farmers went. 

It had two floors - three if you counted the spacious attic. It was painted in old 'rustic' colors, made to look old when it was built and then fading gracefully with the years. Rugs of a dozen different colors and styles covered the hardwood floors to keep insulated for the warmth, and while Yekaterina kept the place tidy there were several pairs of knitting needles and twenty or thirty different colored balls of yarn scattered about. Including one that was identical in color to the scarf that Ivan was currently wearing. The whole place smelled like pine needles (a little Christmas tree sat in the corner, a real tree!) and delicious food. Ivan hung his coat up, then took Alfred's hoodie from him to hangup as well as soon as the boy removed it. Alfred fought down a blush. 

There was a loud bang from upstairs. 

Ivan looked up at the ceiling, listening as a steady thump of footfalls made its way to the stairwell. His mouth set into a hard line as he followed those footsteps. 

"... Katyusha, did you tell Natalia that I was bringing someone?" He asked. 

"Ah..." Yekaterina's smile turned nervous. "Well, she overheard the call..." 

" _Кто, черт возьми, это?!_ " Natalia demanded in their native tongue from the top of the staircase, leaning dangerously over the bannister to look down at where the group stood in front of the doorway still. 

"I should go put that food in the oven to warm it up." Yekaterina squeaked, grabbing the bags Ivan had brought with him and hurrying to the kitchen. 

"I should help!" Ivan agreed quickly, helpfully. He slapped Alfred on the shoulder, leaning down to whisper in the boy's ear. "Don't get within striking range."

If Alfred wanted Ivan so badly, Ivan figured five minutes alone with Natasha would straighten him out. He wondered why he hadn't thought of this before, though the idea of subjecting someone to that much time with his little sister being a violation of the Geneva convention did cross his mind. Ah, well. "He only speaks English!" Ivan called back to Natasha, but as already halfway to the kitchen to assist his older sister. 

That left Alfred alone with her. 

Alfred swallowed the lump in his throat. 

You couldn't have told the picture of her wedding day was taken years ago, she hadn't changed a bit which was a little uncanny valley when he thought about it and the whole 'beautiful doll' aspect. She wasn't in a wedding dress this time, of course. Just a sweater and a long fluffy skirt, her hair tied back by a ribbon. The thought occurred to Alfred that he didn't know how old she was - she HAD to be older than him if she was married years before, but if he saw her without any context he would have totally assumed she was a high schooler. 

She also looked ready to stab a bitch.

Alfred had the sneaking suspicion that in this situation _he_ was the bitch. 

"Uh, uh. HI! Um, Ivan's sister... Natasha... Natalia? Which is it? I don't quite get the nicknames, I mean, when they're the same length it doesn't seem to make much sense..." Alfred laughed, but she wasn't buying it. She quickly made her way down the rest of the steps, getting right up in Alfred's personal space to give him the most critical look he'd ever been given in his whole life. Even his grandparents didn't reach this level of 'you are a goddamn bug under my foot, young man'. 

And she was _shorter_ than him!

"How do you know my brother?" Natalia demanded, though she seemed to be at least as fluent in English as Ivan was and certainly more sure of her words than Yekaterina, her accent was thicker than both of theirs. 

"From, uh, around." Alfred was wary of admitting to being Ivan's student. Not that her two siblings couldn't just tell her that, but it seemed like giving up some kind of ground against this chick. Shit, was this considered within striking range? What the fuck did 'striking range' mean, anyway? Was she packing a knife or something? It was hard to tell with the baggy sweater and fluffy skirt. 

"Are the two of you close?" the second question came right on the tail of Alfred's answer. He had to wonder if Ivan had subjected him to her so he could get a taste of what a bunch of questions felt like, but he was never this demanding!

"I'd like to be closer - dude okay you gotta back the fuck off, America means Personal Space." Alfred took a step back, throwing his hands up between them. "Any more up on me and you gotta buy me dinner first."

The small girl glowered at him, reaching up and ohholyfuck she was gonna stab him-

Oh, no, just poke him in the stomach. Threateningly. 

"Stay away from my brother if you know what's good for you. I won't let anyone else hurt him ever again. So _back off._ " She spun away from him, storming into the kitchen to follow Ivan and Yekaterina's earlier retreat. 

It took Alfred a moment to figure out exactly what Natalia had said through her accent, but when he did he was quick to try and call her back. 

"Wait! What do you mean, 'anyone else'? Hey!"

" _Большой Брат, ты не остановился, чтобы поздороваться со мной. Я не видел вас в месяц!_ " Natalia called with an overly-sweet tone, switching to Russian just to exclude Alfred from the conversation. Alfred ran after her, grabbing the door frame as he leaned right into her personal space this time. 

"Hey! I was fuckin talkin' to you! What did you mean 'any-'" 

Natalia had a solid wall of Ivan right behind her. Uh, oh. 

"Alfred, for the last time, watch your language." Ivan chided, reaching past Natalia and grabbing Alfred's arm. "Outside, now." 

Yekaterina looked quite scared as Ivan dragged Alfred outside. Natalia just smirked. 

 

Outside Alfred was expecting to be yelled at. He stood under the awning that overshadowed the back door attached to the kitchen. The snow was coming down harder than ever now, and he couldn't even see the ever-present mountains in the distance. Just endless white, like the world past twenty feet beyond the farm had completely vanished and they were the only four people left in the world. 

It was so quiet. 

Ivan breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the side of the house despite the cold and his current lack of a jacket since he'd hung his coat up inside. 

"You are a brilliant excuse to get away from her, why did I not think of it sooner?" Ivan mused to himself, glancing over at the shuttered and curtained window. 

"Soooo... you aren't mad?" Alfred asked, stepping a little closer to Ivan to stand next to him. The other man didn't step away.

"You really need to learn to watch your language." Ivan said seriously, giving Alfred a glare. "But no, I am not actually angry. She didn't stab you, did she?"

"She looked like she kinda wanted to." Alfred shuffled his feet, watched them make little patterns in the thin layer of snow that had blown under the covering. "...So that wasn't a joke? She really stabs people?"

"She has, in the past, stabbed someone." Ivan admitted with as little detail as possible. "I am sorry for leaving you with her like that, but she has been very _protective_ of me for a few years now after an accident that I had. She can be very smothering."

Alfred shifted from foot to foot, trying to stay warm. Even with the blankets of snowfall, it was still warmer than the days it rained - the adage 'it's not the heat, it's t humidity' was applicable for heat's twin _cold_ as well, it wasn't the cold it was the windchill - or worse yet, the cold windy days with no cloud coverage at all to provide at least a little insulation. Alfred hated all forms of cold, though. He always thought he wanted to move someplace warm and sunny as soon as he was old enough, even though too much heat actually made him sick. Ivan looked down at Alfred's shivering form, then quietly removed the scarf that he had around his neck still, draping it over Alfred's shoulders. 

"... Your accident, did... uh, it have something to do with the scar on your neck?" Alfred ventured. Ivan went very still and didn't look at Alfred, watching the snowfall instead. Alfred worried that he had crossed a line that couldn't be bounced back from. 

"... _Da._ " Ivan admitted finally. 

Alfred wrapped the scarf around his neck, breathed in Ivan's scent from it. He could feel Ivan's gaze turn to him, and it took all his willpower to keep his own on the snowfall, the scarf, anything _but_ Ivan. If he looked up Ivan might have looked away. 

"After dinner, where do you want to go?" Ivan asked, voice so quiet he could barely be heard over the snowfall. He was clearly experienced at driving in the snow, and had all-weather tires as well as chains on his truck. Unless the road was straight-up closed down, he'd be able to take Alfred home after dinner. But did Alfred want to go home? Ivan was offering to take him, but there was a second choice implicitly given there as well. 

"...I don't want to go home." Alfred murmured against the knitted scarf. Ivan was silent for so long after that, Alfred worried he would have to repeat himself until Ivan gave a deep sigh, closed his eyes and repeated once more...

" _Da._ "

 

Alfred dominated most of the dinner conversation, helping Yekaterina practice her English and with idioms and adages that were different in American vernacular versus Russian. Ivan made an offhand comment about the space program then and Alfred was off like a proverbial rocket, giving the whole history of the one tiny detail that Ivan had mentioned. It seemed there was nothing the boy didn't know about it - he knew aspects of the Russian space program as well. Natalia stewed quietly at the other end of the little table. She spoke very little, and when she did she refused to do so in English. Some of it was cutting remarks about Alfred, but most was completely unrelated and she was just using it to cut the outsider out of the conversation. Yekaterina and Ivan stuck with English aside from the occasional aside to Natalia to behave herself and stop being so rude. It was usually Yekaterina, Ivan preferred to speak with her as little as possible and keep the two person buffer between him and her. Alfred noticed the siblings had kind of a weird rock-paper-scissors style relationship. Natalia intimidated Ivan, Ivan intimidated Yekaterina, and while Yekaterina didn't really _intimidate_ anyone she was able to keep Natalia in line through gentle entreating. 

Ivan had made half the dinner and Yekaterina the other half. Not all of the food was to Alfred's taste but he at least tried everything, and to be fair Alfred did have something of a cast iron stomach. Even if something wasn't OH-EM-EFF-GEE delicious he still ate just about everything that wasn't outright poisonous to him. And even a few things that were, which his pediatrician could attest to. 

Just as Ivan had suspected, he got a knitted blanket from Yekaterina and a CD of music from Natalia. By the end of dinner, the snowstorm had not stopped. Alfred pulled out his phone and checked his messages - there was one from his dad about not being able to get home that night. Alfred texted back that he was staying with a friend anyway and to not worry, with an aside of 'Merry Christmas'. 

After sending that one off, he glanced up to where Ivan was saying his goodbyes with his siblings to make sure he wasn't reading over Alfred's shoulder, and quickly sent a text to Kiku. 

` **Might be losing my virginity tonight, I will keep you posted.** `

" _If you touch my brother I will gut you like a fish._ "

Alfred screamed in a way that was entirely not like a girl at all, turning and swinging blind at the sudden hissed threat behind him. Then it was Natalia's turn to yell, just barely avoiding Alfred's strike and jumping back. 

"...You tried to hit me!" Natalia yelled. 

"Don't - don't sneak up on me like that!" Alfred yelled back, heart racing a mile a minute. He was able to draw his fist back from the half-attempted strike. "I get violent when I'm scared!"

Ivan sighed deeply, patting Yekaterina on the shoulder and striding over to the fight to abort it before it properly began.

"Natalia, we are leaving. I must get Alfred home before it gets too dark." He told her. That seemed to quell her anger somewhat, if nothing else it implied that Alfred would not, in fact, be staying the night with Ivan and she would not have to worry about Alfred's text that he had sent. . 

Ivan gestured to the door. 

"We are going." He told Alfred, fetching the boy's jacket and handing it over before tugging on his own heavy coat. Just in time for Alfred's phone to go off as Kiku texted him back. "What was that?"

"NOTHING!" Alfred declared, silencing the chime, throwing on his jacket and darting out the door as quick as possible so he could check the text without annoying little sisters of the man he was trying to bang sneaking up behind him like a crazy Russian ninja. Alfred's foot slipped in the snow that coated the front steps, but he managed to catch himself on the hand rail before he fell. 

`**You lost your virginity in sixth grade.**` Kiku's text read. Alfred fumed slightly, quickly typing back.

` **I mean with a dude. My gay virginity.** `

"You type very quickly." Ivan commented, making sure he didn't speak until he was within view of Alfred and not in the boy's blind spot. After being almost struck by him twice thanks to surprising Alfred, Ivan was starting to learn to make sure he was seen coming. That, or be prepared to fend off a very strong strike. Alfred laughed nervously at Ivan's question, pressing his phone against his chest and hiding the screen. 

"AH! Yeah, haha, you know. Digital age and all that, raised around this kinda thing." Alfred said quickly, shoving the phone back in his pocket so Ivan couldn't read the conversation. 

"Ah, youth." Ivan said without a trace of wistfulness in his voice. The snow had fallen thick over the course of dinner. It easily went up to almost Alfred's knees and was still falling. He kept behind Ivan, letting him forge a path through the snow bank and taking the easy road in the trail he'd already blazed rather than having to goose-step like an idiot since he didn't have the same bulk to just push through. He only saw one other truck in the driveway and it had to belong to Ivan's big sister - Alfred wondered if Natalia was staying with her. _Ha_ , he totally had Ivan all to himself then. Well, maybe... 

Ivan cleared the snow off of the windows of the vehicle while Alfred climbed inside and shivered himself into something that passed for warmth. When the windows were clear Ivan climbed in as well, starting the engine up and just sitting there while the heat kicked slowly into gear so it could defrost enough to be slightly warmer than an ice box. 

It was a strange mix of dark but light outside. The sky was black, but the snowfall made it seem bright as day. 

"Yeah - um." Alfred prompted quietly, looking up at Ivan under the fringe of his bangs. "So, when you said you had to take me home..."

"It was true. It is getting late." Ivan reached past Alfred again, getting out another cigarette for the drive. He hadn't smoked at all while in his sister's house. Alfred wondered how many cigarettes he went through a day, he seemed to mostly smoke while driving. 

"... So... did you mean..." Alfred prompted further.

"Do you always need everything spelled out for you?" Ivan asked.

"Well, yeah." Alfred said without shame, giving a little huff and blowing some of his hair out of his eyes. "I'm a dumb ass."

Ivan snorted, shifted the truck into gear and began to pull out of the driveway and to the road proper. Yekaterina had at least shoveled her driveway earlier so the snow was much less deep and possible to drive over. 

"I have never known someone so egotistical to be so self-depreciating. Must you be number one at absolutely everything, Alfred Kirkland? It's an incredibly obnoxious personality flaw."

Alfred's phone went off again. He yanked it out of his pocket to glance at the screen, biting at the inside of his lip. 

` **You have been messing around with both genders as long as I have known you.** `

Alfred glared at the screen, rapidly typing back with one hand. 

` **I MEAN LIKE PENETRATION GAY SEX. I'm a virgin if I say I'm a virgin!** `

Alfred snapped his phone case closed and slid it back into his pocket. 

"Are we going to go back to your place and messing around or not?!" He demanded, looking back to Ivan as they stopped at the stop sign. Everything around them was completely white aside from the strip of black pavement on the main road that the snow plow had cleared earlier, stretching as far as the eye could see in both directions. 

"Alfred, you have to understand the dangerous position all of this puts me in. I could get fired. I could get _arrested_ \- just for bringing you back to my home and playing cards in an entirely platonic manner." Ivan growled, eyes flashing with anger. Alfred didn't back down, he just raised his voice too. He felt like he should be like that guy from _Memento_ sometimes, prefacing every conversation and meeting with 'have I told you about my condition?' Only his condition was not short term memory lost, but terminal word-vomit. 

"I WANT YOU! There, I said it, you can't cut me off or pretend it's not happening anymore, okay?! I _want_ you more than I've ever wanted anyone or anything, and - and I can make my own decisions okay?! It's not like I've never fucked around before! I'm not some innocent that you're corrupting! Okay maybe I've never had a guy's dick inside of me before but I'm _not_ a virgin and adults really need to stop assuming that sexual interest doesn't start until you're eighteen because that is fucking BULLSHIT! AND I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU, _I WANT YOU!_ " Alfred gasped for breath, not realizing he had hit screaming pitch until the silence that came after his rant. 

Ivan just stared at Alfred, eyes slightly widened by the sheer volume that Alfred had displayed.

"... I ... I won't tell anyone." Alfred finished, but the words sounded weak to his ears.

"You'd tell your friend." Ivan pointed out. He started driving again. Alfred knew at least his home was in this direction, but was Ivan's? He felt apprehensive, being so close to this only to have it pulled back out of his reach. He didn't deal with 'no' very well. He wasn't used to hearing it. 

"Kiku isn't anyone!" Alfred argued. "He's _Kiku!_ He's like my other half, okay. I tell him everything."

"That much is clear. If he means so much to you, have you ever tried dating him? He is your own age." Ivan asked. Alfred groaned, sinking as far down in the seat of the truck as the seat belt allowed for.

"Fuuuuuuuck, not you too!" Alfred was seriously getting sick and fucking tired of hearing this. "And, I know, I know, language. But seriously okay have you ever heard of the Westermark Effect?"

"I cannot say I have." Ivan didn't sound particularly interested either, but Alfred wasn't going to let that stop him. 

"It's basically reverse sexual imprinting. After some study in like the 1890's they found that kids raised around one another basically see each other as family, like a safety lock in our psyche to prevent inbreeding. You spend a lot of time around someone before you hit a certain age? Bam, they're family as far as your brain is concerned, and they think of you the same way." Alfred explained. The windows were slightly foggy - mostly from his yelling. Still slouched, he reached up to draw patterns in the fog.

"And this is relevant to your and your friend because?" Ivan prompted.

"Because I've known Kiku since _kindergarten_. He's more like my brother than my brother is." Alfred muttered. "Also, we tried making out once. It was was super weird and I think Kiku's probably an ace anyway." 

"Ace?"

"Asexual. Not into the bump and grind _at all_ , no matter what kinda heat his partner is packing. He'd rather play Mario Kart than make out. ... Not that Mario Kart isn't really fun too." 

"And _you_ are, if you don't mind my asking?" Ivan still sounded disinterested even though he was asking. Or maybe he was just _trying_ to sound disinterested. Damn it that shit was too hard for Alfred to figure out. Why was it so hard to just say what you meant and mean what you say?

"Kinsey-wise I always figured myself for like a two - more than incidental homosexual behavior but more or less straight enough." Alfred mumbled while he drew spirals on the window. "Until you moved here. I've had it bad, I can't think of anyone else. I've kind of been e-stalking you too. Uh, sorry." 

Okay THERE was emotion in Ivan's voice finally. Complete and total _bafflement._ "...What does e-stalk mean?"

"Fuck, dude, do you even own a computer?"

"No."

"... Well that explains why I couldn't find jack shit." Alfred groaned, pulling up his hood on his jacket and closing his eyes. "Look, if you're gonna kick me out just give me a warning first so I can tuck and roll, a'ight?"

The rest of the drive was silent and far too long to be anywhere Alfred could think of, though to be fair they had to take everything at about ten miles per hour that was off a main road. Alfred cracked an eye open when the truck finally came to a stop. They were in the housing community by the lake, the houses all strange and different in shape and size from one another, not the uniform little boxes on the hillside. Alfred always liked this neighborhood for the uniqueness of every building, though the drinking parties sure helped make him favor it too. 

Alfred looked over to Ivan curiously. Ivan's hands tightened briefly on the wheel before he turned the truck off and stamped what was left of his cigarette out in the ashtray.

"I am entirely disturbed by my being in a situation where I need to say this, but this makes no promises for any kind of physical contact whatsoever. Grab your bag. If you swear again I may slap you."

"Kinky." Alfred grinned, unbuckling his seat belt and hopping out of the truck. The snow was deeper at Ivan's place, or maybe it was just snowing longer. There were a lot of evergreens between the houses, and while some creaked dangerously, their branches heavy with snow, Alfred was _pretty_ sure they did check-ups to prune all dead branches and ones that would threaten to break if it snowed every autumn.

Ivan's little house was almost entirely hidden by privacy foliage. From what Alfred could see of it, it looked like it was kept in shape. There weren't any cars on cement blocks in the yard or anything, anyway. He ended up following Ivan's path again, if only because he didn't know if he'd end up tripping on a completely covered bicycle in the yard or something. After some struggling with the lock, Ivan shouldered the door and it unstuck, popping open. He held the door for Alfred, then closed it behind the both of them. 

The inside of the house was dark and freezing cold. Alfred was spot blind for a few seconds after Ivan flicked on the overhead light for the living room - halfway between adjusting to the dark and suddenly being flooded with light again. 

No television and no computer in sight, it seemed like the most modern thing in Ivan's home was a radio which looked pretty old too. Otherwise it was small but ... cozy. 

All the furniture was mismatched and overstuffed, definitely _Goodwill_ chic. That was okay, Alfred could dig it. There was a soft meow from the area of the kitchen and a dark gray ball of fur as large as a medium-small dog came trotting out into the light. 

"Dude! You didn't say you have a cat!" Alfred said, setting his bag down by the door and kneeling so that he could hold his hand out to the feline. 

"I don't." Ivan explained, untying his scarf and hanging it up with his coat. He shoved a chair out of the way revealing a fire place and small pile of firewood, kneeling in front of it and working on getting a fire going. "He is a stray that comes around sometimes. I imagine he has quite a few homes, he never seems underfed and his fur is never too tangled. He comes in through the bathroom window and behaves himself so I allow him to come and goes as he pleases." 

The cat played coy for a bit, regarding Alfred with some measure of cat-like suspicion, but after Alfred waited patiently with his hand out the cat trotted within reach and allowed himself to be petted. By the time Ivan got a fire going the cat was purring up a storm and rolling onto his back to allow Alfred to pet his exceptionally fluffy belly. 

"Aw, he likes me! I like you too, big guy!" Alfred grinned, sitting there on the ground while the cat basked in the attention that Alfred was freely giving him. "Dude! You didn't say you had a fire place either, we can totally make s'mores like ANYTIME!"

Ivan looked over, giving Alfred a deadpan look.

Alfred wilted just a bit. 

"I'm not doing a good job convincing you that I'm not a kid, am I?"

"Not particularly." Ivan stated, muttering under his breath a phrase that sounded distinctly like 'I am going to hell'. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Uh, sure! You got hot chocolate?"

"Da." Ivan assented, going into the kitchen. Alfred stood, stretching out his legs and stripping down to just his sweater and jeans. His socks had gotten wet with all the trudging through the snow with canvas shoes, though Alfred figured he should just be happy his toes had not gone blue. He sat on Ivan's couch, sinking into he soft cushions. The cat hopped up after him, strong-arming his way into Alfred's lap to drape across it for more affection. Alfred looked to the kitchen and wondered if the cat was allowed on the furniture, then figured that Ivan wouldn't let the cat roam so freely if he cared that much. He wasn't turning to yell in any case, and the kitchen area was totally open to the living room so he certainly had to see.

Alfred was draped comfortably with the cat curled up in his lap by the time Ivan came back over, two mugs of steaming liquid in one hand, and a pile of blankets and pillows fetched from a closet in the other. He tossed the bedding next to Alfred and passed him the mug. 

"Don't give me that look." Ivan chided at Alfred's pout. "I'd like to slow my decent into hell just a little bit. I was never intending on fucking you when I picked you up." 

Alfred's breath caught in his throat. He was too distracted to even get on Ivan's case about saying a curse word when he had given Alfred such a hard time over his swearing. The simple profanity paired with Ivan's accent, in Ivan's voice for real and not just how Alfred imagined it... and god damn, his was totally giving Alfred bedroom eyes, half-lidded with just a hint of smile to them. 

The cat gave an unhappy meow of being startled by all of the movement and darted off Alfred's lap to parts unknown. Alfred quickly grabbed a pillow and pulled it into his lap instead, blushing and hiding his face by drinking his hot chocolate too quickly for how hot it was. 

It was nice, probably made with the real stuff instead of powder. 

Ivan sat next to Alfred, the bedding acting as a makeshift wall between them. Ivan drank his hot chocolate in serene silence. Alfred could swear he was even smirking. He was a sadistic bastard. A sadistic bastard that Alfred wanted to dry-hump into repeated orgasm. 

"You know," Alfred cleared his throat, tried to find his words again and set his mug on the little coffee table in front of the couch. "I think _I've_ been pretty fucking obvious and honest about how I've felt so far. Can you - fuck, can you throw me a bone or _something_?"

Ivan's eyebrow twitched just slightly, but his smile remained in place. "What did I say about swearing?"

"I'LL FUCKING SWEAR ALL I WANT UNTIL YOU ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTIO-"

Alfred didn't have enough time to process the information his brain was receiving before he was pushed against the arm of the couch and -

Very fucking thoroughly kissed. 

Ivan's mouth tasted like cigarettes and chocolate and Alfred's jeans were getting uncomfortably tight at that mixture of tastes. He grasped at the back of Ivan's shirt, pulling him close, as close as he could get. He'd kissed boys and girls before, but no one as hot as Ivan. No one who had him wanting to beg for it just by the way he moved his tongue in Alfred's mouth. He was pressed too tight against the arm of the couch, there was no room for him to wiggle and get his leg around Ivan but maybe that was the idea. He was just so fucking _big_ and Alfred whined deep in his throat when Ivan pulled away, even though his lungs were burning. Ivan was flushed, gasping for breath too. Oh. _Oh._ No he _hadn't_ had bedroom eyes before, because they were nothing compared to now. 

"You will be the death of me." Ivan muttered against Alfred's lips. "...It's late. Go to sleep." 

"Fuck me." Alfred blurted, hands tightening in Ivan's shirt. "I _want_ -"

" _No,_ Alfred." Ivan growled, prying Alfred's hands off of him and getting off the couch. "I shouldn't have even kissed you. Go to sleep." he turned away, going into a room down the hall and closing the door behind him. 

Alfred laid on the couch, hard and needy and feeling absolutely unsatisfied. He'd finally had a taste of Ivan, he wasn't going to rest until he'd had more than that.


	14. "You have already established that if given an inch you will take a mile."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning both Ivan and Alfred need a little 'relief', though it is taken separately. Alfred begs and badgers and convinces Ivan to give him a chance, and they learn more about each other.

Try as he might, Hypnos's sweet embrace kept eluding Alfred. A good self-love session would help things, but he knew he was loud and he didn't know how thick Ivan's walls were. He briefly entertained that being the point of it, masturbating loudly and calling out Ivan's name, maybe that would be the breaking point and encourage Ivan to act on more than just a kiss. But it could also get him kicked out, and it was cold and dark and a long walk back home through the cold and the dark. Alfred fucking hated the cold, and ghosts and shit lurked in the dark. 

And then the stupid cat jumped on his chest again, briefly knocking the wind out of him. The cat was just so friendly and purring so contentedly, Alfred felt bad moving him. It seemed like the big guy wasn't used to getting a whole lot of affection, and Alfred always liked felines. The cat's purring at Alfred's stroking of his fur managed to emit enough sleep waves to finally put Alfred to sleep. 

In his own bedroom, Ivan wasn't honestly having any more luck. _He_ knew how to be quiet, and he knew just how thick his own walls were (very) but the idea of jacking off to the thought of making out with a sixteen year old was still conflicting to him - whether or not that was legal age of consent some places didn't change the fact that in America it _wasn't_ , there was more than twenty years age difference between the two of them, and _people in prison got stabbed for this kind of thing._ Harming children was the lowest of the low, and he had to tell himself over and over that that's what Alfred was.

His erection disagreed and didn't flag in the slightest.

Ivan dozed off restlessly for an hour or two at a time until it was an acceptable time of the morning. Even though he'd managed to calm the fire in his blood for that precious little bit of rest, when he woke and left his bedroom to see Alfred sprawled out on the couch fast asleep, the desire woke right back up again too. 

He obsessed easily. _Very_ easily. It had lead to so much trouble in his life. In fact, there was not a single problem Ivan had that he couldn't directly trace back to his obsessive nature. It had gained him his short lived ballet career and cost him it as well. It had cost him Yao. It had cost his sister her marriage. It had cost him a life where he wouldn't have to take medication every single day for probably the rest of his days along with Natalia practically breathing down his neck with worry for every single one of those if he didn't constantly let her know he was alright.

If he was going to be a decent person by any stretch of the word he couldn't allow it to destroy Alfred's life as well. He was just a kid - _just a kid_ \- with his whole life ahead of him. 

Ivan went into the bathroom quietly, starting up a morning shower to try to clear some of the sleep from his mind, but all that took its place was the sound of Alfred's voice as he pleaded _'Fuck me'_. 

It was a blow to the ego, resorting to stroking himself in the shower like a horny teenager, but a man had needs. He tried to blank out his thoughts, to think of nothing at all while he gripped himself tight and brought himself off as quickly and quietly as he could, but Alfred's plea was like an echo in a long tunnel. _'Fuck me'_. Ivan couldn't get the words out of his head or the thought of what kind of sounds Alfred would make if he gave in to that request. 

It was probably a credit to Ivan's terrible life that it wasn't even the worst or most guilt-ridden orgasm he'd ever had. Or perhaps just a credit to his clear lack of morals. 

When he turned the shower off he went still, listening for any sounds that Alfred was awake. 

He could hear muffled talking, but it was quiet. His house may have been little, but it had very good insulation in the walls. Ivan grabbed a towel and dried off, throwing a robe on to cover his nakedness before he stepped out of the bathroom.

Alfred was sitting up on the couch, legs tucked up under him. The cat was purring in his lap as Alfred stroked its fur with one hand, the other holding his phone up to his ear. 

"Uh, ... _friend_." Alfred said into the phone without realizing Ivan had stepped out of the bathroom. He was blushing. It was adorable. 

Ivan tied the sash on his robe as he strode over to Alfred, the boy startled when he looked up and saw Ivan there - and promptly seemed to forget the phone at his ear in favor of letting his mouth hang open while he stared openly at Ivan's physique. The red tint to Alfred's face deepened and his breathing started getting rougher - and all Ivan was doing was standing there in a robe _looking_ at him. _'Responsive'_ shouldn't have been the first thing that came to Ivan's mind. 

"You should take a shower, there's hot water left." he said, keeping his voice low. He didn't know who was on the other end of that call, but what he wanted to know more was what kind of no doubt impossibly dirty things were running through Alfred's mind. 

"Uh," Alfred flinched as he realized he still had a phone in his hand. "Oh, Um. Yeah, I gotta go. Yeah. Love you too bro bye." he shut the call down and tossed his phone aside. 

Ivan turned headed into the kitchen to start breakfast. 

 

Just before that run-in, Alfred was happy to snooze the day away. The couch was plush and as comfortable as his bed to be honest, nice and large enough that he didn't have to get all cramped up either. 

He didn't wake at all when Ivan went from the bedroom to the shower, nor did he wake when the water started. He probably would have still been passed out when Ivan came out of the bathroom were it not for his phone blaring, loudly, the chorus from Queen's 'We Will Rock You'. That sent the cat running and Alfred scrambling to sit up and grab the phone that was next to his ear. 

"Bllughhmattie?" Alfred answered, brain still fogged from sleep. At least he didn't wake up with morning wood, that would have been an awkward conversation partner. 

"Fred? I'm sorry, did I wake you? I forgot, you're like three hours behind. Timezones." Matthew said apologetically. "I wanted to wish you Merry Christmas, I already called dad, he said he stayed at a hotel in the city last night..."

"Oh. Oh yeah, it snowed pretty heinously yesterday." Alfred mumbled, scratching at his head. He pulled himself up into a sitting position on the couch, blankets tangled around his legs, and peeked out the window that the couch was up against. The cat hesitantly returned to his lap, seeing that the evil phone monster had stopped its own yowling. "Looks like it stopped for now. Anyway, I, uh. I stayed with a friend last night, so I'm alright. Supervised and shit."

"Uh huh." Matthew's voice was careful, suspicious. "A friend or a... _friend?_ "

Matthew knew damn well how many friends Alfred had. Alfred blushed, wiggling his toes under the blankets as he thought of how to answer that. 

"Uh... _friend._ " Alfred settled on. Because even if he wasn't fucking Ivan he sure as hell wanted to be. 

"Riiight. You are staying safe at least, I hope?" Matthew asked, but before Alfred could answer he looked up as he heard someone approaching and-

Oh god, it was Ivan. 

Wet. Slick. Naked aside for one robe. _Ivan Braginski_. Alfred just wanted to - wanted to just _lick_ him, anywhere where Ivan would let him. _Everywhere_ Ivan would let him. He was an atheist but right then he wanted to get on his knees in front of Ivan and fucking worship at the temple of his body oh god his muscles, _HE COULD TOTALLY LIFT A TRUCK_. It was hard not to squirm, spending so much time around Ivan in these last slightly less than twenty four hours had given Alfred so much masturbation material. The way Ivan smelled, the way he tasted, what his house looked like and fuck fuck fuck-

A part of Alfred just wanted to rub his cock against Ivan's while Ivan murmured soothing things into his ear and they were - aside from the extreme frottage - just... cuddling, and kissing. When had Alfred's fantasies gone so fucking vanilla?

Ivan said something... something about a shower... thinking of Ivan with him in the shower, pushing him against the tile and working Alfred's ass with his fingers, whispering profanity in his ear, he just loved Ivan's voice, his accent that made Alfred's knees feel like they were made of jello, the way he said _fuck_ -

"Fred? You there?" Matthew asked over the line. 

"Uh." God, where was he again? What year was it, what day? Fuck. God. Ivan was still standing there looking at him like that and why wasn't he ravishing Alfred against the sofa that very instant _why_. 

Matthew sighed, loud enough to be heard over the phone.

"Okay, so it's clear your girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever has come to say 'good morning', so you have a good day Fred. Love you." Matthew said. Alfred flinched, realizing he had completely blown his brother off again. 

"Oh, Um. Yeah, I gotta go. Yeah. Love you too bro bye." Alfred said quickly, tossing his phone aside after he ended the call, but Ivan had already turned away to head to the kitchen. Alfred tried to swallow the lump that was in his throat. 

Fine, Ivan wanted him to shower? Time to test how thick those walls were. 

Alfred stood from the couch with a little difficulty. He was kinda hard, and that always made walking a metaphorical pain in the ass. Ivan insisted on keeping his back to Alfred, which was kinda aggravating, but Alfred could deal with it. He left the bathroom door open just a crack. An invitation, or maybe a dare. The window and mirror were still fogged from Ivan's shower, but there was an extra set of towels out for Alfred to use, thank goodness. Not that he wouldn't have been content to saunter out there naked and ask for some. He took care of the essentials first - teeth brushing and the like - before turning on the water as hot as he could handle it and hopping in. 

Alfred's shower at home was strictly a shower, but Ivan's was one of those bath and shower dual usage things. Good for relaxing. _Great_ for fucking. 

He scrubbed his hair, washed his face and worked his way down, groping himself without any hesitancy as he imagined Ivan's hands on him instead. Big calloused hands slick with water, roaming over Alfred's skin as they pleased because he was happy to let Ivan touch him _anywhere_. He twisted one of his nipples, letting out a pleased whimper - fuck, Alfred loved his chest touched, bitten, whatever. He raked his nails down his stomach, it was mostly muscle aside from the little bit of baby fat that refused to go away. It was his goddamn fantasy so he decided Ivan would like it, though he would tease Alfred about it. _'You're just a kid'_ wouldn't be an excuse to not touch him but instead some illicit dirty talk, murmured against his skin while Ivan pressed up against his backside and stroked down Alfred's stomach to bypass his cock and stroke the inside of his thighs, just teasingly out of reach while Alfred whimpered and rubbed back against him until he'd beg Ivan to touch him. 

Then Ivan would chuckle, low and pleased, and give Alfred what he wanted. Teasing at first, then stronger, bolder, as Alfred practically came apart in his hands with want. 

" _Fuck me_ ," Alfred begged, panting, having to lean against the wall for balance because his hands were occupied elsewhere. One hand pumping his erection while the other slid between his legs and teased at his ass. He'd only played with himself back there a little bit compared to how much he touched his own dick. It was a strange sensation but to be perfectly honest he fucking loved it. He'd gotten pretty good about finding that spot inside of him that gave him a harder and quicker orgasm than anything he'd ever experienced before, and in his mind Ivan was just as good at finding it. Any fumbling on Alfred's part was just teasing on Ivan's. Stroking him inside and out, commenting huskily ' _You're quite a glutton back here, too_ ' And Alfred would beg and whine and plead for Ivan to put it in, to fill him up with his dick. He'd beg so nicely that Ivan would have to oblige him, covering Alfred's mouth with his own, fucking Alfred's mouth with his tongue while he slid his cock into Alfred's ass.

Alfred came _hard_ , dragging it out as long as he could, pumping himself until he was completely dry. He groaned, knew that the tile had to have left an imprint on his skin but not really caring a damn bit. A good orgasm did wonders for his mood, it took the edge off of his anxiety better than anything else - even booze. That taken care of, he finished showering in no time flat and dried off with the extra towel Ivan had left. 

Alfred was admittedly a little disappointed to not find Ivan outside the shower waiting to pounce, but maybe that kind of shit only happened in pornos after all. Or maybe he just had really _really_ good insulation. 

In an entirely accidental turn of events Alfred realized he had forgotten to bring clothes into the bathroom with him. There was the stuff he slept in, but he actually did have CLEAN clothes in his bag. Welp. He tied the towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door further. 

Ivan was in the kitchen, firmly ignoring him as he seemed to be making something that looked like pancakes. 

Alfred silently fumed with anger. That was not how this was supposed to work. Ivan was supposed to want to jump him after that. Alfred would have been shouting mad but... the food smelled really good. He grabbed his clothing from the duffel bag he brought and went back into the bathroom to change. 

 

It wasn't that Ivan hadn't heard Alfred, it was just that he had far more self-control than the boy did. 

The fact that he'd smoked three cigarettes while Alfred was in the shower was coincidence and nothing more. 

 

Alfred sat at the table when he got out of the bathroom, dressed in a different pair of jeans and his WarGames tshirt, with the map of the world and the quote 'THE ONLY WINNING MOVE IS NOT TO PLAY'. At some point Ivan had changed into khaki trousers and a sweater and put more wood into the fire place, the fire keeping the house toasty warm while he busied himself in the kitchen. The smell of food masked any residual scent of smoke. After Alfred sat down at the little two-person table, Ivan began to put plates in front of him. Pancake things with sour cream, sausage, eggs, and coffee. Like, a breakfast. A real breakfast. 

"You are very loud." Ivan said, meeting Alfred's eyes briefly as he set down the coffee cup. "Did you know?" 

"I've been told." Alfred replied with a raised eyebrow, taking up the utensils. 

Ivan's eyes trailed over Alfred, and the young man returned his gaze, completely unafraid and daring. 

He wanted Ivan and he wasn't going to back down until he got what he wanted. 

Ivan turned away first, bringing his own plate to the table and sitting across from Alfred to eat his breakfast. Alfred wiggled his toes - he hadn't put socks or shoes back on. Ivan had no hardwood floor in his living room, just soft and old carpeting across the floor which was warm to walk on. The kitchen had rugs all across it to cut the cold as well. The whole place seemed to be made to keep out the icy chill that threatened outside. 

"... Merry Christmas, Ivan." Alfred said, glancing back up at him as he drank his coffee. 

"You should not call me that, Alfred. I am still your teacher." Ivan said with a deep sigh. 

Under the table, Alfred reached out with is foot to touch his toes to Ivan's. Ivan was wearing socks. 

"... School doesn't start back up until the third." Alfred said quietly, biting at the inside of his lip. Under his shirt, the necklace Kiku had given him felt warm against his skin. _Do What You Will_. "Most of the roads are closed. It's supposed to snow again today. A lot of communities have lost power and we still might, too. If we're already cut off, what's wrong with ignoring the rules as long as there's no one around to enforce them? Just for a little while?" 

Ivan set his coffee down and threaded his fingers together as he looked at Alfred across the table. He looked critical. He didn't move his foot away from Alfred's. 

"Is that your plan? 'Just for a little while', then a little while becomes as long as you can hold it out? You are playing an obvious hand, Alfred Kirkland, when you have already established that if given an inch you will take a mile." Ivan observed. Alfred didn't flinch at the assessment. 

"I guess you probably wouldn't get the reference since you don't have a computer and probably wouldn't even know what I was talking about if I said 'A Softer World'." Alfred muttered, poking at the left over food on his plate. "But you've already said you're going to be in trouble no matter what if anyone finds out about this, even if you _don't_ do anything. 'Judge all you want. We are all going to die. I intend to deserve it.'"

"An interesting tactic. 'If you are going to do the time, you may as well commit the crime'. What is it that you want, Alfred?"

"You." Alfred tried to look as serious as he felt about this, wanted Ivan to _feel_ what he was feeling. "In any way you'll let me. You aren't - you aren't taking advantage of me, or coercing me into anything. I'm asking, I'm pushing, I'm starting this, _I want you._ "

Ivan chuckled and shook his head, picking up his napkin and wetting the edge of it on his tongue. 

"You frequently get what you want, don't you?" He asked Alfred with a small smile that didn't look nice at all but made Alfred squirm in his seat. Alfred flashed Ivan a brilliant smile.

"Basically always."

Ivan reached out with the napkin, dabbing at the corner of Alfred's mouth with it. 

"You had sour cream on your face. Did you know?" The large Russian asked. His smile didn't waver. 

Alfred felt like he was a balloon with all the air let out of it. So much for being all dignified. 

"Kiss me again." He demanded, trying not to flinch again as the words sounded plaintive and whiny after he'd said them. "... Please?"

Ivan looked down at the napkin he had used to clean Alfred's face off. 

"You are, without a doubt, the most infuriating spoiled child I have ever had the misfortune of having in my life." Ivan declared, standing so that he could lean over the table, take Alfred's chin in his hand, and capture the boy's lips with his own in a kiss.

It was wonderful in an entirely different way than the kiss the night before. Last night it had been consuming, reckless, a crime of passion. This was measured and controlled, still forceful, _deliberate and planned_. It was first degree murder in a kiss. Alfred grabbed at the front of Ivan's sweater, pulling him as close as he could, opening his mouth to it in invitation. Ivan's hands stayed on the table for balance, kissing Alfred until he was breathless and his lips had become flushed and swollen from the pressure. Lips he had licked so many times while staring at Ivan's lap. 

"After the snow storm clears, I am taking you home." Ivan said, his voice a low growl. "And if I tell you then that it is over, it _never happened_." 

"Yeah. Sure." Alfred lied, having no intention of giving Ivan up until _he_ was through with this. "We gonna spend the day in bed getting to know each other better?"

"We are cleaning the table then feeding the cat." Ivan informed Alfred, picking up his plates and taking them to the sink. Alfred blinked as he sat here for a few seconds in confusion. Okay, domestic, he could do domestic. He would be the most fucking domestic. He grabbed the rest of the plates on the table and brought them to the sink as well, where Ivan had already started washing his. He grabbed a dry dish cloth and handed it to Alfred, along with a cleaned plate. "Dry," Ivan directed, nodding to the cabinet next to the refrigerator. "Plates go in that one." 

Dishes went quickly with the two of them doing them. Alfred hummed some Tenacious D, drying the hell out of those dishes and putting them away as quickly as Ivan could give them to him. Alfred was eager to get through chores, to prove that he was good at this and worthy of a relationship. "Feed the cat?" Alfred asked as he dried the last cup and put it in the cabinet. Ivan nodded. "If he's not your cat, why d'you feed him?" Alfred asked curiously as he watched Ivan open a drawer and take out a can of tuna. The second that the can opener sounded there was the heavy thump thump thump as the large fluffy gray and white cat came running, circling Ivan's legs and meowing plaintively.

"He does not seem to like poor weather, if he is going to be stuck here for the warmth, it is only fair to make sure he does not go hungry." Ivan explained, dumping the contents of the can onto a small plate used to hold a tea cup and passing that to Alfred. Ivan pointed to the table. "Put it under there, that's where he gets fed." 

Ivan turned away then, rinsing out the can and peeling off the label to recycle it. He clearly expected Alfred to listen and comply. Alfred thought of rebelling for that reason alone - he hated being dismissed like that - but his pride won out and that cat was just so damn cute. The cat followed him to the table, it could smell the tuna in the plate he was holding and tried to trip Alfred up several times in the few steps it took to get to his destination. When Alfred finally set the plate down the cat didn't seem to _breathe_ it was so intent on finishing the tuna. 

"Whoa, buddy, slow down! No one's gonna take that from you." He reached out to pet the cat and it purred so loudly it sounded like a jet engine in takeoff. Even if the cat wandered from house to house it was definitely used to people - most strays would hiss if you made any gesture that could be seen as possibly trying to take their food from them, but this cat seemed pretty domesticated. "Geeze, you'd think he hasn't eaten in days."

"He might not have." Ivan pointed out. "He is a stray, and most of the birds he would catch to eat have already migrated."

Alfred made a slightly horrified face at that. Ivan laughed at him.

"What is with that look? He is an animal, he kills to eat. So do you, do you think meat just magically populates at the grocery store? Something had to die to make that."

"I know that!" Alfred said, going slightly red - Ivan finished up in the kitchen and moved past Alfred back to the direction of the bathroom. He didn't close the door behind him so Alfred followed, darkened the doorway and just watched Ivan like a creepy stalker and fuck you there was nothing wrong with that.

Ivan opened the medicine cabinet, pulled out an orange pull bottle and looked back at Alfred as he popped the lid off. 

"You are so nosy. It's a turn-off." Ivan's voice was cheerfully cruel, the same tone used to tell students to run extra laps for slacking off. He always seemed happy when Alfred was upset, when he was off his game, when he wasn't sure of himself. Alfred wanted to punch Ivan in the jaw as much as he wanted to make out with him sometimes for making his emotions flip-flop so much. He ignored Alfred then as he shook a little blue and white pill into his hand and swallowed it with a small cup of water before placing the bottle back in the cabinet.

"... Was that pain meds for your hip?" Alfred asked. THAT got Ivan's attention - a sharp alarmed glare. Alfred remembered suddenly that Ivan had never told him about the car accident or the broken hip, he'd only referred to it vaguely as 'an accident'. 

"No." Ivan said, jaw clenching briefly as he seemed to be trying to decide on whether or not to be angry with Alfred. "It was Geodon - once a day after meals." _a half-dosage until and unless his symptoms worsened,_ he silently reminded himself. "Would you mind informing me about how you know about my old injury?" 

"I told you, I was e-stalking you. Like. Stalking, online. All I found was a mention of you as a former dancer for your ballet thingy on Wikipedia though, and a really old news article in Russian about - about the car accident." Alfred explained, backing up as Ivan advanced on him. He looked angry - angrier than Alfred had ever seen him, and he'd seen him pretty angry before. This was a quiet angry. If it was a movie Alfred was pretty sure the soundtrack would have gone to dead silence as well. 

" _And?_ " Ivan prompted, backing Alfred against a wall.

"What?"

" _What else did it say?_ "

"Nothing! It said you got a broken hip and - you are gonna have to back the fuck up dude you're freaking me out." Alfred warned, putting a hand on Ivan's chest to hold him back. Ivan grabbed Alfred's hand and slammed it against the wall, looming over him. 

"Don't lie to me, what _else-_ " Ivan didn't get to finish his sentence, the rest of his words lost in a cry of pain. 

This time when Alfred swung at him, Ivan wasn't expecting it. The right-hook connected squarely with Ivan's jaw, sending him stumbling back and briefly seeing stars as the taste of blood flooded his mouth from the split lip.

"Oh-! Oh my god dude I am so sorry!" Alfred freaked, easily breaking Ivan's grip on him to run past the older mand and into the bathroom, tearing open the medicine cabinet to grab some gauze for the blood and a cold pack. Ivan was a P.E. teacher, he had to keep that kinda basic shit handy at home too, right? Alfred's assumption was correct, and he grabbed both items before he dashed back to where he had left Ivan, still dazed and confused and bleeding in the living room.

"I told you dude _don't scare me_." Alfred whined, grabbing Ivan's arm and dragging him to the couch to sit so Alfred could tend to the injury he'd inflicted on Ivan. 

"You... You hit me. _Hard_." Ivan stared at Alfred, any previous anger forgotten from he shock of the punch. He knew Alfred had a habit of taking a swing at people when startled from how often the boy had done it before, but he had never felt nor seen one _connect_ before. Forget football, forget track and field, Alfred Kirkland could make a killing as a mixed martial artist fighter. Alfred blushed, dabbing at the cut on Ivan's lip with the gauze. He was relieved to see that Ivan didn't need stitches, and his jaw didn't seem dislocated or broken either. All were things he had inflicted on others before, entirely on accident from his knee-jerk reaction to being surprised or afraid. Ivan's cheek was forming a very nasty blue-purple-red splotchy bruise in the shape of Alfred's fist, however. Hopefully that wouldn't last for too long. 

"Yeah, I tried to tell you a few times, I got like a violence reaction to fear." Alfred explained now that Ivan was willing to listen and not cut him off, sitting there as Alfred bent over him and tended to his face. "I'm banned from like every fuckin' haunted house in the county. I've put people in the hospital for jumpin' out at me during Halloween. This one time I slammed a guy in ghost costume so hard against the wall I dislocated his arm and cracked a rib. That ain't hyperbole either Kiku was there he can back that one up. So, like, don't fuckin scare me okay? ... You alright?"

 

It was in that moment, looking up at Alfred who was so clearly worried about Ivan even after Ivan had almost lost control and assaulted _him_ , and explained so apologetically that he would lash out if he felt threatened, that Ivan realized that Alfred wasn't going to be wounded so easily by him. Alfred would fight if he felt he had to, he wouldn't let himself just be hurt. He wouldn't suffer silently until it was too late, until there was too much pain and bitterness between them. Ivan had to be careful, of course, because he was still the adult in this relationship and there was still so many years between the two of them, but he didn't have to be careful for fear of actually bringing physical harm to the other boy. Alfred would clearly not allow it, no matter how much he might care about Ivan. He would put his own self-preservation first. 

It was in that moment Ivan felt his heart ache as he began to fall in love.


	15. "Oh my fuck that's like as big as my arm."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blackout gives the two a romantic moment which is cut short by Ivan's old injury, only to return home and have things heat back up in a different way.
> 
> ~THEY BANG IN THIS CHAPTER.~

"I can take you home." Ivan offered, once Alfred had finished fussing over him. It seemed only fair, he had lashed out at Alfred, scared him to the point of violence. Alfred looked surprised at Ivan's offer, eyes widening marginally behind his glasses before he looked away, a pout already forming. Hurt?

"Are you kicking me out?" Alfred asked, his voice already taking on the combative tone of an argument waiting to happen, back straightening and hands tightening into fists. 

"What? No." Ivan said quickly. "I just thought... after that, you might not want to stay." He explained. Alfred sat down on the couch with a heavy sound and reached out across the space between them to hold on to Ivan's sweater like a lifeline. 

"If you think you can chase me off that easily you got another thing coming." Alfred warned, his voice not losing the dangerous tone. Ivan smiled - it ached to do so, the whole side of his face was burning with pain from Alfred's right hook, but it was worth it. As long as Natalia didn't drop in for a surprise visit and see it anyway.

Ivan covered Alfred's hand with his own, his touch light and reassuring. He looked at the coffee table in front of them, not at Alfred, as he began to talk again. 

"... I'm sorry. After the car accident I was ... in a bad place, mentally. Emotionally. And I did some things I'm not proud of." Ivan explained, struggling to find the words and even then the ones he found were truly ineffecient at explaining exactly what had happened. Alfred was, blessedly, silent and patient. "... I hurt a lot of people that I cared about, and lost some of them. Many of them. I was... worried that you had found out about _that_ , not the car accident." 

Alfred shifted on the couch, scooting closer to Ivan so he could rest his head against the older man's shoulder. 

"So you had a breakdown. Whatever, you went through some rough times. It happens." Alfred said. He was pouting, Ivan didn't have to see it on his face to know it from his huffy tone. "Even if I knew it wouldn't have changed anything. I don't keep asking you about yourself to try and find things that turn me off, you know. I just... I really like you. And when I really like something I just want to know everything about it - about _you_. I'm a nerd, that's what I do."

Despite his fears, Ivan smiled. "Like your Star Trek?" he asked softly. Alfred grinned. 

"Yeah. Like my Star Trek."

They sat in pleasant quiet for a few minutes while Ivan struggled again to find the words he needed to say. It wouldn't be fair to let the kid get in over his head without fair warning, after all. "I am very... obsessive, and possessive. You should know." Ivan warned, reaching an arm around Alfred to curl around his waist and pull him close. Alfred let out a small delighted squeal. Okay, _that_ was new. But then Ivan looked down to make sure he really hadn't hurt Alfred and the kid was blushing, and that was adorable. 

"Does this mean you're going to fuck me in the locker room because I've been beating off thinking about that for like _months._ " Alfred babbled. Ivan stared. God damn it, while it was good to know sometimes that he wasn't having any sexual side-effects from his medication, there were times when having difficulty getting it up would actually be useful. He was one hundred percent certain that this was not the kind of behavior he should encourage at all. Ivan shifted on the couch, crossing his legs in a way that he was hoping was subtle enough. 

"You do not have any shame about your desires, do you?" Ivan asked Alfred, with no small amount of curiosity and fascination in his voice. Even if he knew it was bad to encourage this kind of thing, it was simply not something he was used to, and it was something that set Alfred apart from both Ivan _and_ his ex-lover. Alfred was bold, not prone to awkward and strained arguments about family obligations, about remaining in the closet, doubting love. But then again it was a different time back then and now Ivan was much older, much more experienced than he was back then, if only when it came to emotional maturity. Yao had been Ivan's first, and after Yao Ivan didn't care for contact with strangers. 

He leaned down to kiss Alfred again, chastely compared to the other two times. Something they should have started with. Alfred let out a sweet humming sound from deep in his throat, the boy was naturally noisy. 

Before the kiss could go further, Alfred's phone blared the chorus of _'Cherry Bomb'_. Ivan would have been content to ignore it but Alfred pulled back, looking around for where he left his phone and spotting it on the other side of the couch, across Ivan. 

"Oh- shit, that's Kiku, one sec, sorry, sorry, bros before hos." Alfred explained apologetically, giving Ivan a quick kiss and reaching past Ivan's lap to grab where he had tossed his phone at before. Rather than grabbing it and righting himself, he remained draped over Ivan's lap, stomach and hips balancing on Ivan's thighs. Since he was at such a prime angle for it, Ivan thought nothing of looking over Alfred's shoulder as he rapidly texted back and forth with his friend. Anything was a welcome distraction from Alfred's rear and now exposed lower back with how his shirt was hiked up. 

**`'Virginity status?'`** Kiku's text to Alfred read. Alfred's fingers were a blur over the keypad as he rapidly replied. 

**`'Does fucking my mouth with his tongue count because I need a cigarette after those kisses. ;)'`** In the reflection of the phone's screen, Ivan could see the grin on Alfred's face as he hit 'send'. Kiku must have been waiting, because the reply was almost instantaneous. 

**` 'You're the one who was claiming virginity in the first place, I know what you've done and where you've been.'` **

**` 'Boo you whore'` **

**` 'Pot, kettle, black.'` **

Alfred stuck his tongue out at the screen as if Kiku could see it. Then again, Ivan wasn't really familiar with the new phones, maybe he could. And he - oh for fuck's sake. Alfred was actually squirming a little bit in Ivan's lap, as if it wasn't bad enough that he was pretty much draped across it like he was pretending to be a cat. 

Ivan placed a hand on Alfred's lower back, watching the boy's expression in the reflection of his phone. Not that he needed the indication of Alfred's pleasure at this action, Alfred leaned back against Ivan's hand and into his touch even as he was typing to his friend about thanking him for the great Christmas presents. He kept spelling that necklace's name in all capital letters. Ivan decided it must be a thing in the novel.

"Do you enjoy that book, the one your necklace is from?" Ivan asked to distract himself from the jail bait that was making itself far too comfortable across his lap, even though it was kind of a stupid question. Obviously Alfred liked it. But they had made a movie too, hadn't they?

Alfred glanced at Ivan over his shoulder, grinning. "It's my favorite. You should totally read it. Gotta get the full color version though that's important. And don't watch the movie until you've read the book they get so much of it all wrong and it's only like the first _half_ of it." As he babbled, he rolled over so he was laying on his back across Ivan's legs, his shirt hiked up a bit to expose his stomach, just below his navel to a few inches above it. Even in the winter, his skin held the very light sun-kissed tan. "I have it, actually. Do you want to borrow it?" 

"...Alright." Ivan said, trying to hide his entertainment at how excited Alfred was. Alfred reached down to his duffel, rummaged around in it then fished the book out. He had not expected Alfred to have the book _on him_ , but it was a hardback without a dust cover, looking a little banged up. This was a well-loved book, to be certain. Ivan took the novel in hand, flipping through the pages without reading the words to see that the ink alternated between green and red. It was probably a symbolism thing. "I'll finish it before you go." He told Alfred, tapping the younger man's legs to indicate that he needed to move so Ivan could stand. Alfred huffed, but scooted back on the couch so that he was off of Ivan's lap, and that tempting patch of skin on his stomach was blessedly covered again. 

"You can sleep in my bed tonight." Ivan told Alfred as he gathered up the pillows and blankets on the sofa that he had brought out for Alfred's sleeping the night before. Alfred perked up, scrambling to his feet to follow Ivan as he moved to put them back on _his_ bed in his bedroom. Ivan didn't glance back at Alfred, only pausing at the doorway to switch the overhead light on. Alfred looked around the room and - ah, well. Ivan did have to put all those sunflowers Alfred had given him _somewhere_ , didn't he? Most had long since wilted, but a few were still hanging on with careful attention, sitting in vases on his dresser and bedside tables. "But no sex, before you get your hopes up."

"Okay." Alfred said, stopping his look around of the room to give Ivan a wide grin.

That had Ivan suspicious. He tossed the pillows and blankets onto the bed and turned to give Alfred a measuring look - the boy wore his heart on his sleeve, but there was no plan evident in his face. Just boundless assurance.

"... you are not going to argue?" Ivan asked, crossing his arms. Alfred's grin turned into a smirk, and he looked at Ivan like this was a game that he had already won. 

"You've said 'no' to a lot of things," Alfred noted, with a confidence that made Ivan want to punch him just a little bit. "But here I am, in your house, giving a relationship a trial run, and you've kissed me like three times already. I'm pretty sure I'll get my way before I get sent home, sooner rather than later." 

"You are awfully assured in yourself." Ivan said dangerously.

"I'm lucky, did you know?" Alfred explained, smirk turning into an innocent guileless smile. The boy was a better actor than Ivan was giving him credit for, though Ivan suspected that in Alfred's mind none of this was acting. Alfred went at every emotion like he believed in it wholeheartedly, even emotions that directly contradicted ones he had only moments before. It was dizzying. It was infuriating.

It was pitiable.

Ivan reached out and hooked a finger around Alfred's belt loop, pulling the boy closer so he could kiss him. He was starting to realize there were times that he didn't know what else to do other than kiss Alfred. As Alfred stood up on tip-toes so he could press the angle better, press the kiss deeper. Ivan suspected that Alfred's self-obsession wasn't necessary intentional - he seemed so _lost_ within himself. Where did you even begin to help someone like that? The boy was a hurricane of trouble. 

 

Alfred slid his arms around Ivan's shoulders, he was just so goddamn big, so handsome, Alfred wanted every inch of him. 'I can be possessive' Ivan had warned 'obsessive'. Alfred knew logically that those things should not be turn ons. Fuck, he was even on Team Jacob because he knew, logically, that those things were not attractive and instead the building blocks to a very unfunny crazy ex-boyfriend story that ended with a broken spine and dead pets or something. But he couldn't deny the thrill to his ego at the thought of someone being possessive of him, of someone wanting him so much. And he didn't have any pets, anyway. 

He loved Ivan's room the instant he set foot in it. 

It was cozy, like the rest of his house, the main feature of his bedroom being the oversized bed. Easily California king-size, but Ivan was a big man after all. The sunflowers Alfred had given him for an early birthday gift were covering every available inch of space on the dresser and spilling over to the bedside tables, at least the ones that were still living after a few weeks. The overhead light was dim, probably a low-wattage bulb that made the colors seem muted, soothing. 

"Fuck me." Alfred demanded again during the breaths between kisses. His arms tightened around Ivan's shoulders as he pressed close as he could. " _Fuck me_."

"No." Ivan insisted even as he kissed Alfred's neck, hands tightening on Alfred's waist. His fingertips brushed against the patch of exposed skin at Alfred's lower back, and every nerve felt like it was on fire. "Child, I would _break_ you." 

Alfred wanted greatly to give that a shot, but Ivan's hands had already gone from holding his waist to pushing it away, to walk past Alfred back into the living room. Alfred bit the inside of his lip to keep from letting out a frustrated whine and stomping his foot, reminding himself again that actions like that did not help his 'I am an adult and can make my own decisions' case. He wandered after Ivan instead, like he had been for the last twenty-four-ish hours. 

"Soooo, no television, no computer, video games are right out, dude what do you _do_ all day?" Alfred asked, sitting back down on the couch. He dug through his duffel for his laptop and pulled it open, telling it to search for unsecured wireless connections. 

"Read," Ivan answered, sitting next to Alfred and opening the book up. "Go on walks or runs, I help my sister out on her farm, though the weather doesn't currently permit for it and I imagine Natalia is still there."

"Boo, none of those are really date-friendly, we should watch a movie." Alfred said with a grin. Sweet, high speed and unsecured Wifi, thank goodness for people who had no idea how computers worked. Alfred hijacked their signal and went about checking his e-mail, facebook, twitter, the essentials. 

"No television." Ivan reminded Alfred as he read the beginning of the book. 

" _Laptop._ " Alfred said with a grin, pointing to his computer. "I got netflix streaming on this and _someone_ within a few blocks of you never bothered to set up their WiFi with a password."

Ivan turned his eyes away from the book, giving Alfred a blank and expectant look while he waited for the boy to explain what half of those words meant. Alfred sighed. 

"I can get movies on here. Is there anything you've wanted to see? Oh! Have you seen the new Star Trek? I mean, it isn't the same as the original and there's a LOT of changes but it's a good introductory point because it's like an AU though Spock Prime does show up and they have a bunch of homage moments to the original including things Nichelle Nichols mentioned in her autobiography about Uhura which they never got to bring up in the TV series due to the racism of the era and you have no idea what I'm talking about and don't even care huh? I'm queuing up Star Trek, it'll be ready in like five to thirty depending on how good this connection is." Alfred babbled, looking to Ivan, then back to his laptop as he got the 2009 remake ready to load. "... I love Star Trek."

Ivan smiled. "It's cute." 

Alfred blushed. 

As much fun as Ivan has made of his enthusiasm, when Alfred told him it was ready, he still put a bookmark in place and settled in to watch when Alfred started the movie up to play. 

Alfred started bawling like a baby within the first minute of screen time, and Ivan was pretty obviously confused at what was so emotional regarding Captain Robau telling George Kirk 'You're captain now, Mister Kirk', but discovered after another few minutes it was preemptive crying at knowing what was going to happen next. Alfred had seen the movie more than twenty times, and every single time he started sobbing at that point. A father's heroic sacrifice for the life of a son he would never know but love just the same. Ivan tried to not put too much stock into Alfred's choice of media but it was a little difficult. He put an arm around Alfred anyway, making softly soothing sounds as Alfred cried into his shirt sobbing about 'Papa Kirk' until the title scrolled. 

He was able to keep his emotions in check more or less after that, aside from a few choice comments regarding Spock, and when Pavel Chekov appeared on screen for the first time Ivan commented that his accent was actually quite good. 

"Well, yeah, he's actually from Russia. Well, he's American, his family moved from Russia when he was a baby, but he was born in St Petersburg." Alfred said. His laptop was busy playing Start Trek, so he had to just remember the facts he'd read on IMDB rather than pulling them up to recite. "His name is Anton Yelchin, I read his parents were-"

"Figure skaters." Ivan finished. "Irina Korina and Viktor Yelchin? They were amazing, I got to see them perform at the Ice Ballet once." Ivan's eyes went distant as he remembered, and as much as Alfred loved Star Trek, he couldn't help but look away from the screen as a sad smile graced Ivan's face at the memory of a lifetime ago and a world away. "I wouldn't have gotten to go, but my- someone I was very close with wanted to go. When the Yelchins went to America as refugees in '89, I remember thinking about doing the same. Of course, I was a child at the time. It was a flight of fancy and nothing more."

Alfred did the math in his head - Ivan would have been fifteen at the time. 'A childish flight of fancy', was that what he thought of Alfred's feelings, too?

"You came to America eventually though." Alfred pointed out.

"Mmm, I did. But for very different reasons." Ivan agreed. They watched the rest of the movie in as much silence as Ivan could hope for. Alfred couldn't resist pointing out little details here and there, things Ivan didn't understand but enjoyed hearing if only for how Alfred's eyes it up as he giddily explained things in a way that just made them more confusing, but he just loved it all so much and he wanted Ivan to understand and love it too. 

After the movie was over, Ivan kissed Alfred again. He had intended it to be brief and chaste, but Alfred snapped the laptop shut and set it aside so he could sit astride Ivan's lap and kiss him harder, all tongue and teeth and hips rolling against Ivan's. 

"Mmm- mm, Alfred, calm down, no, _Alfred_ ," Ivan sighed, putting his hands on Alfred's hips to try and still their far too pleasing and _skilled_ motion. He knew that this was going to be a long night. After getting Alfred off of him, Ivan spent most of the day reading and kissing Alfred far more than he had planned to. Alfred spent the time playing flash games on his laptop and trying to convince Ivan to kiss him as much as he wanted. 

At roughly three-thirty in the afternoon it started snowing again. The gentle snowfalls from before interspersed with heavy lumps of frozen ice. Ivan got some candles out, 'just in case'. He relied more on firelight than flashlights with batteries, it seemed. Alfred would have commented on fire hazards but he suspected that he would have just gotten a lecture on the fact that anything is dangerous if you don't know how to handle it. The mixture of hail and snow slowed after an hour or two and went back to the light sprinkle that it was before, clouds beginning to move towards the mountains once more after dumping their heavy cargo and for all intents and purposes looking like the danger had passed. 

However, at almost six o'clock on the dot, the power finally gave out. Alfred didn't hear a crash of any sort, so it probably wasn't a tree giving out under the weight of snow and taking out a power-line, or a car swerving on icy road and plowing into a transformer. Not within hearing range anyway. There were lights on one moment and the next everything aside from the gentle glow from the fireplace was bathed in darkness. 

Alfred unplugged his laptop and shut it down to save the battery, assisting Ivan as the other turned off any lights left on to prevent anything blowing when the power turned back on - though whether that was going to be five minutes or five days was anyone's guess. When they had gotten the basic safety done, Alfred crawled back onto the couch and tugged the curtains open to look outside. The little bit of snow that was still falling was faint and gentle, bathing everything in white that made it seem as bright as day on the ground. 

A second later Alfred was on his feet, throwing on his shoes and coat like a boy possessed. 

"Alfred, what are you doing?" Ivan asked, stepping out of the kitchen with a lit candle in his hand. Alfred didn't even spare Ivan a backwards glance, tying his shoes as quickly as possible. 

"Come on, the power outage might not last that long!" Alfred gestured for Ivan to follow, grabbing Ivan's heavy coat off the rack and throwing it at him. Ivan just barely managed to blow out the candle and catch his coat with the same movement. Before he could ask any questions, Alfred was out the door and running out into the frozen darkness of early evening. Ivan cursed, throwing his coat and his snow boots as quickly as he could before doing the same, not bothering to lock up. 

For all his reluctance regarding the cold earlier, Alfred ran through the thick snowbanks without any hesitation. There were a few young children playing out in their yards enjoying the first real snowfall of the year and on the holidays none the less, while their parents watched protectively from the windows or played outside with them. No one called out to Alfred, though some did watch him run by. He was quite a sight in blue jeans and canvas sneakers and a Captain America print hoodie, Gryffindor scarf trailing behind him in the wind. 

Ivan had more experience with the cold than Alfred did, but Alfred was a record-setting track student for a reason, and he didn't have an old injury flaring up to drag him down. On the bright side he left a trail behind - he _did_ want to be followed, yelling "COME ON, HURRY!" over his shoulders a few times as he made his way around the block and down the small hill to the lakeside community center. The long building was so covered with snow that the dark blue of the roof was completely hidden, pairing that with the white walls Ivan almost didn't realize where they were at first. 

Alfred bypassed the chained basketball court, weaving through the evergreens that peppered the park area and running straight out onto the dock. It creaked under the combined weight of Alfred and the snow. Ivan panicked briefly as he cleared the evergreens, unsure if Alfred would be able to stop in time but he slowed and slid, catching his balance on the octagonal edge and narrowly avoiding plunging into the icy waters of the lake. 

When Ivan finally caught up to Alfred he had every intention of reading the boy the riot act for the sudden run, but as soon as he came within reach Alfred grabbed Ivan's sleeve and pointed up above them. "LOOK!" he declared, face flushed with cold and happiness all at the same time. 

Ivan turned his head upwards and looked.

Many of the clouds had passed, and so the oppressive gray above had given way to a sky that had blossomed with thousands of stars, burning bright and beautiful above them. Even in the relative boonies that was the unincorporated county, only the brightest stars could be seen thanks to all the ambient human lighting that went on. With the power outage there was only the sky with nothing to outshine it, and it appeared that the clouds that were intermittently dumping snow on them weren't heavy enough in coverage to block out the cosmos that twinkled above them. 

"There's Cygnus!" Alfred pointed at a patch of stars between clouds, briefly outlining the form of the swan so that Ivan would be able to see before his attention turned elsewhere. "And on the horizon, Cetus!"

Ivan looked to where Alfred pointed, recognizing the cluster of stars in that exact configuration. "Cetus, that's one of the ones in your room, isn't it?" he asked, recalling the imaginary sky. Alfred startled away from the stars and looked up at Ivan, eyes wide.

"YOU'VE BEEN IN MY ROOM?" he asked, as if there would be a way for Ivan to have found anything embarrassing with all that clutter. Ivan shrugged easily. 

"I snooped when I dropped you off because you were too ill to walk home." Ivan confessed without shame. "You're stalking me on the computer, so we are even."

Alfred wanted to argue, but he just huffed, his breath fogging his glasses. "I guess you're right. And yeah, Cetus is on my walls."

"Do you mind if I ask what all of those stars mean? Is it some significant date? I do know enough to know they change depending on when you look at them." Ivan had wondered since he saw them if it was some date significant to the boy, like the day Alfred's mother died, some kind of way to mourn or grieve.

Alfred blushed.

"Yeah. It's for what the sky will look like right there, April fifth, 2063." He didn't even need a moment to recall the exact date. Any ideas Ivan had about what the stars could mean were thrown right out the proverbial window at that assertion. 

"That's quite a ways away, what's important about that date?" Ivan asked, looking back up at the sky once more. 

"... It's first contact." Alfred said, breathless, like he was telling some holy secret to Ivan. "When Zefram Cochrane makes the first successful test of warp drive, drawing the attention of a passing Vulcan science vessel, who come to earth to greet him, to greet _us_. After that... the united federation of planets."

Ivan knew laughing would be a bad idea, and was quite thankful that he had some measure of self-control, unlike Alfred. "Do you honestly believe in aliens, Alfred?" he asked instead.

"Do you honestly NOT believe in them, Ivan? Think about it! Try to wrap your head around how VAST the universe is." Alfred let go of Ivan then, stepping away and spreading his arms wide as if to try and take in the entirety of the sky above them. "They talk about the unlikelihood of other planets being able to support life, but they really mean _human_ life, and humans are so fragile. Shrimp can live at the bottom of the Mariana trench just fine, but we've only made _one_ manned expedition down there and that ain't for lack of trying. Why do we think aliens will breathe oxygen like we do, need the same chemicals to live? Aliens HAVE to exist. Maybe they won't be anything like us, and maybe we'll never _meet_ them, but there's other intelligent and sentient life out there. I don't believe in God, Ivan, that's _dumb._ But I am _one hundred percent_ faithful that right now someone, _somewhere_ out there is telling their lover that there is life across the galaxy staring back."

The dock creaked under their feet. It was dangerous being so out in the open, anyone could see them... But Alfred was just so beautiful, so hopeful, smiling so bright. Ivan hooked an arm around Alfred's waist and pulled him close, sealing his lips over Alfred's and kissed him again. Silence fell over the pair, they may as well have been all alone in the world, kissing until Alfred's lips went chapped and red and Ivan had difficulty catching his breath. 

"Let's go back inside," Ivan murmured against Alfred's lips, leaning down to bump his forehead against Alfred's. "You are an ice cube." 

The way back was taken much slower and more carefully, trudging through the snow only half-dressed for it made the pain in Ivan's hip flare up so badly that when they were part of the way back he had to lean against Alfred for support. The heat was kept nice and insulated inside his home so he hadn't bothered to take anything for the pain that morning, a choice he was regretting very quickly. 

"I'm really sorry," Alfred said, face red from the cold, from embarrassment. One arm was around Ivan's waist while the other held the hand wrapped around his shoulder. "I wasn't thinking."

"That much is clear." Ivan agreed, but kissed Alfred's cheek when they were not within view of windows and possible prying eyes. He was worried they'd be called out to or recognized, but no one gave them a second glance as they returned to Ivan's home, which was as undisturbed as they had left it though the fire had died down somewhat. Ivan was thankful that wherever the cat was, he was probably sleeping and had not decided any lit candles were playthings. 

Back inside, Alfred helped Ivan get his large overcoat and boots off. He was going to help Ivan to the couch, but it quickly became clear that although the couch was big enough for Alfred, it certainly was NOT big enough for Ivan to lay down on. To the bedroom it was. 

"I have heating pads in the closet, painkillers in the medicine cabinet." Ivan hissed out as Alfred laid him down on top of the quilt. Alfred nodded to show he understood. He ran out of the room, rooted through the closet wondering what the hell kind of heating pad Ivan could mean until he found what he was looking for - little hand held one-use packets that you squeezed until they popped and they generated a limited amount of heat. More useful than something to plug into a wall when there was no power. On his way to the bathroom's medicine cabinet he grabbed and lit a candle for extra light, he wasn't familiar enough yet with Ivan's home to not trust himself to trip over his own feet or a bump in the carpet. 

Alfred set the candle on the little table that held the lamp (pushed aside to make room for the more reliable light source) and crawled onto the bed next to Ivan, kicking off his canvas sneakers. He passed over the painkillers first which Ivan swallowed dry, then squeezed the packet until it made a faint popping sound and heat instantly began to pool from it between Alfred's hands. It took a little work to find exactly where it would be most beneficial, but with Ivan's direction Alfred soon had it pressed against the joint of where his femur met his hip bone on the left side. Crisis averted, Alfred sat cross-legged next to Ivan on the bed while the heat rumbled up to speed and the painkiller sank in.

"... Can... can I ask you more questions?" Alfred asked as he held the heating packet in place. His eyes flicked from between the packet at Ivan's hip which moved in slow circles. The packet was small and the old wound was rather large. 

"You are so curious." Ivan murmured, eyes closed. His hands were folded on his chest, if Alfred hadn't seen him limping just a few moments before he would have thought Ivan was just taking an early evening nap. "You can ask, but I might not answer."

"That's not fair." Alfred pouted. "I just... I want to know everything I can about you. ... And you kicked me out of detention so I haven't had a chance to ask anything recently! ...In your accident. The web page said someone died." 

"My father." Ivan answered quietly, not opening his eyes as he remembered the time long ago. "He was driving. We were having an argument about... my life, about some choices I was making that he didn't approve of. He was distracted and something gave out - the transmission or the steering maybe," Ivan let out a quiet joyless laugh. "They told me but I don't remember. He lost control, and hit a building head-on. I remember regaining consciousness while the emergency workers pulled me out of the car. I couldn't feel my legs, I feared a broken spine. For some reason I thought my father was fine. ... He had a way of surviving anything, like some immortal force of nature. I never thought to ask if he was alright."

Alfred kept a hand on Ivan's hip, holding the heating pack there while he laid down, half-curled up next to him. He had kicked off his shoes earlier but otherwise was still dressed for the snow outside. Ivan opened his eyes up then, turning to look at Alfred. Alfred looked back, unafraid. 

"Look at you... you'll get my blankets wet like this." Ivan tugged at Alfred's scarf, his distant expression melting into a smile. While Alfred kept the heating pad in place, Ivan gently unwrapped layer after layer of clothing until Alfred was down to his jeans and his t shirt.

There was a moment of hesitation, then Ivan's hands went to the button and zipper at the front of the denim, gently undoing them. "The hems of your jeans are soaking." He explained softly, even as he rolled them both so that he was kneeling over Alfred as he undressed the young man further. Alfred kept silent, too excited to speak. Ivan had to feel it, there was no way with his hands all over Alfred's crotch he was going to miss it as Alfred started to get hard. He lifted his hips so Ivan could tug the pants off his legs and toss them aside, leaving Alfred in boxers - thank Roddenberry they were just black and not with some kind of novelty print. Ivan's hand rested on Alfred's knee briefly, trailed it up his thigh and halted as his fingertips dipped just under the hem of the legs of his boxers. "You are nervous?" Ivan asked lightly as goosebumps prickled at Alfred's skin in the wake of Ivan's touches. 

"It's just... cold." Alfred breathed, eyes not leaving Ivan's. 

"It is." Ivan agreed softly. "We should get under the covers."

"Your pant legs are wet too." Alfred pointed out as Ivan's hand reached past him to tug at the blankets. Ivan smiled.

"So they are."

He made no move to remove them, so Alfred took he initiative. He was hesitant, watching to see if his hands would get batted away or he'd get yelled at, but Ivan just watched as Alfred popped the button, tugged the tab of the zipper down, so slowly to draw it out and memorize every moment. It wasn't like they were getting naked, Ivan was wearing boxers too. Alfred braced a hand on Ivan's hip, careful of the bad side as he used the other hand to tug the trousers down. Ivan let him, he didn't push Alfred away, just quietly watched until Alfred had them low enough down that Ivan could kick them the rest of the way off. Alfred grabbed at the edge of Ivan's sweater as soon as he heard the sound of the wet fabric hitting the floor. 

"You really gonna sleep in a knit sweater, dude?" Alfred asked, raising an eyebrow as he fingered the knit fabric. 

"Are you really going to be a good boy and allow me to _sleep?_ " Ivan asked in return, eyes shining with amusement in the dim lighting from the candle.

Alfred bit the inside of his lip to keep his grin from getting too wide. "In the immortal words of Jayne Cobb, 'Let's be bad guys.'"

Ivan stared. 

"... Who?"

"Oh, god, okay, you know, I'll show you Firefly later. Off."

Ivan raised his arms so that Alfred could remove the sweater off of his person and toss it to where their trousers had gotten kicked to. He had a thin tank top under it for insulation, but Alfred seemed content to allow Ivan to keep that piece of clothing on for the time being. It took a little maneuvering, but Ivan managed to turn down the bed and pull Alfred under the covers with him without breaking too much contact. It was so dark in he room, the only light was from the swiftly burning candle. Alfred hadn't taken his glasses off though, he didn't want everything to go blurry, he wanted to remember every detail of Ivan's expression, of his blessedly close for once, well-defined _muscles_...

Ivan wrapped his arms around Alfred's waist and kissed him briefly on the lips, then on the cheek, then trailing down his neck. Alfred let out a deep sigh and took this as encouragement. He tilted his head back so Ivan could kiss as much of his neck as he wanted, or at least as much as he could get at before the shirt collar got in the way. In the meantime Alfred hooked a leg around Ivan's and pulled their hips close enough to grind against him. Ivan drew a sharp break and for a moment Alfred panicked as he wondered if Ivan would pull away, but he grabbed Alfred's thighs and pulled him _closer_ , rubbing their erections together through the cloth of their underwear which was quickly becoming far too tight for Alfred's liking. 

"Yes, yes, _yes yes yes_ -" Alfred encouraged, rolling his hips against Ivan's with the skill he had displayed earlier on the couch. He already felt hard as a rock, and it was this weird cognitive feedback - Alfred got turned on quickly because he always thought of all the possible ways a situation could run, having fifty plus dirty fantasies in the span of seconds before lips even connected like some pornographic Midnighter. But for once he was actually getting at least one of those manifested into reality as he dry-humped his incredibly sexy gym teacher with the delicious accent and the muscles that could lift a truck. He wasn't just left standing in the locker room _wanting_ , he was actually _getting_ , and even something as simple as dry-humping in Ivan's bed was turned absolutely _wicked_ by Alfred's thought process on what it could _lead to_ , what Ivan could be _saying_ -

Alfred babbled, he frequently did when aroused, completely losing what little filter he had between his brain and his mouth.

"God, fuck, please, _Please_ ," he murmured into Ivan's ear as his hands went to grope Ivan's backside, pulling him closer, harder. All the movement was hiking his shirt up, bunching it up on his chest and letting his stomach rub against Ivan's as well. They were so close, it felt like they shouldn't even have space for clothing between them. "I want this, I want you, put it in, please, please, fuck me fuck me _fuck me_ " - Alfred licked the shell of Ivan's ear and got a shaking moan from his partner, pushed against him harder, non con was a kink, explicit consent had to be one too, right? "I want you to _fuck_ me."

"I would split you in half." Ivan hissed in return, an echo of his earlier statement. Alfred couldn't feel well enough through the cloth. That meant it was time for it to go. 

"Prove it." Alfred moaned, and in an instant he was pulling down Ivan's boxers as well as wigging out of his own, until they could press together skin on skin and Alfred got his first good look at Ivan in the room's low lighting. For one brief moment words abandoned Alfred. 

But only for a brief moment. 

"Oh my fuck that's like as big as my _arm_ " Alfred exclaimed, stopping his movement to stare. Ivan looked down between them.

"It isn't _that_ big." Ivan said, cheeks coloring a bit in embarrassment.

Ivan was HUGE. It could just be the angle but for fuck's sake he looked like twice Alfred's size.

To be honest, Alfred was a little intimidated.

That didn't stop him from rolling his hips again so that he could rub his erection against Ivan's, fascinated with the way he skin looked as it moved, the way it felt.

"I don't think it's going to fit." Alfred said through gasping breaths even as he kept rutting against Ivan, holding onto the back of Ivan's shirt so hard his knuckles were going white. He couldn't let go, he'd leave Ivan with scratches. "Just - just a guess, I haven't - oh fuck, I've only had a few fingers up there before _wow_ seriously how do you have enough blood to get hard? Isn't that difficult to fit into pants?" 

"Oh for fuck's sake." Ivan stilled his hips, shifting and holding Alfred's still with his hands. Sometime between getting under the covers and that moment he had gone from crouched over Alfred to sitting comfortably between the boy's very willingly spread legs. "You really talk far too much. As I said, I would break you in half if we tried penetration, so-"

"Have you done porn?" Alfred interrupted, looking up to meet Ivan's gaze, and his eyes were so wide and blue and _no one should look that innocent_ while humping someone else's dick like a rabbit during mating season. "I think you could do porn, it probably pays more than public school work." 

"Alfred-"

"You're bigger than a lot of porn stars actually." Alfred wiggled his hips against Ivan's hands, desperate for the friction to return, looking back down to continue to stare at Ivan's erection which really should have been wilting under the scrutiny but didn't flag in the slightest. "C'mon, Ivan, _Iiiivaaaahhhn_ , don't hold out on me, we already got our pants off."

" _Alfred_ -"

"Wait, no, don't do porn, then I'd never get to fuck you, you'd be too busy fucking other people if we're dating you can't do porn unless it's one of those sexy home-made we film ourselves kinda deals." 

" _ **Alfred.**_ "

"WAIT that'd be like CP, huh? So you'd get arrested. I mean, you'd already get arrested if we were caught but-"

"SHUT. UP." Ivan growled, ducking down to kiss Alfred breathless before biting the boy's throat hard enough to bruise it. "You - are - _infuriating!_ "

Alfred was flushed and desperate and the rough treatment had only made him harder. He fell silent though, watching Ivan cautiously, as cautious as anyone hard and halfway to climax could be. Ivan glared at Alfred for a few moments longer, catching his breath, then ducked down again to lick at the bite mark he'd left on Alfred's throat, apologetically gentle. He had to keep his temper in check, he couldn't lose it again. Carefully - _carefully_ \- he let go of Alfred's hips so that the boy could resume rutting against Ivan and prayed that his hands hadn't left bruises there. 

"... Hey." Alfred breathed, rocking his hips into it as soon as he was freed to do so. Ivan tried to ignore him, muffled his own sounds against Alfred's shoulder while the boy held tight. Ivan was fairly certain he could have stilled entirely and Alfred would have just picked up the slack. 

" _Hey,_ " Alfred moaned again, and Ivan raised his eyes to look at Alfred. He was so red, biting his lip, staring vacantly as if he had forgotten what he was going to say before remembering a moment later. "Hey."

" _What_." Ivan growled, grabbing Alfred's thighs again to pull the boy closer to him. Maybe he would shut the hell up if he got off.

"... I could suck you. I. I've been told I'm pretty good at it. Though, everyone I've blown has been circumscribed and, uh, smaller." Alfred offered, toes wiggling. Ivan could feel the movement against his leg. "... It'd keep me quiet."

Ivan chuckled at that last addition, kissing Alfred's cheek, then his ear, then whispering "If you had suggested that sooner, we might have gotten to this _months_ earlier."

"Can I blow you under your desk at school I want to blow you under your desk at school-" Alfred babbled, even as he pressed on Ivan's shoulder to get him to lay on his back on the bed, rolling them so Alfred was on top as he scrambled back to get his face down to crotch level with Ivan. 

He looked even bigger up close. 

Alfred gave himself to just admire that beautiful cock in all its majesty. He was pretty sure he'd be way gayer if he was exposed to cocks like this earlier. Not that he didn't still love tits but - _fuck a duck_ \- cocks looked weird sometimes, but this was a goddamn work of art. 

It was Ivan's turn to squirm at the way Alfred was looking at him, so needy and _hungry_ , like if he didn't get that he'd die or something. Ivan admittedly hadn't had many lovers in his life, and he was absolutely certain none of them ever looked at him like that. 

Alfred reconsidered his atheism. Dicks like that were a creation of God. Wait, that was probably like ... something that meant the thing that pissed off religion because it implied having fun, his vocabulary was quickly leaving him. His mouth watered. 

He leaned in and licked Ivan with just the tip of his tongue, base to head, breath hot against Ivan's skin. Ivan didn't babble like Alfred did, didn't have his filters just shut off the second he got hard. Alfred glanced up and saw Ivan watching him with bedroom eyes. Alfred whined, rubbing his cock against the blankets for a little friction while he fisted Ivan's cock and pumped it a few times, got a feel for it, tugged down the foreskin and wrapped his lips around the head. Alfred knew he was probably weird, but he actually really liked the way dick tasted (that was, standard dick taste, not like 'super sweaty haven't showered in a week' taste). He also liked having things in his mouth. It was like the perfect hobby for him, but he could only do it at parties when everyone including himself were wasted lest he be called out on his homosexual tendencies. 

Alfred hummed around Ivan as he slowly took him in as deep as he comfortably could. He couldn't even get half of it in, he hadn't killed his gag reflex enough to deep throat yet but suddenly had really good incentive to try. Being able to completely swallow his boyfriend was better than 'dumb ass drunken party trick'. 

"Easy," Ivan coached gently, placing a hand on Alfred's shoulder as he took Ivan a little too deep and had to repress an entirely unsexy cough. "You don't have to-"

Alfred pulled back from Ivan long enough to mutter "I _want_ to. How many times do I gotta say that before you believe me?" 

"At least once more, little Alik." Ivan said fondly, the hand on Alfred's shoulder moving to card his fingers through that sunflower yellow hair. 

" _Alik?_ " Alfred asked between stroking Ivan with long strokes of his tongue. "Wuzzat mean?"

" _Mmmm._ It is a diminutive for your name." Ivan said. He was finally starting to sound short of breath. Alfred tilted his head to the side and sucked at the thick vein that ran along the underside. 

"Yeah? In Russian?" Alfred asked when he pulled away, licking his lips as his hand took over, stroking Ivan, enjoying the texture of the foreskin. One new shiny thing to play with. 

"Alfred is not - _ah_ \- not exactly a _Russian_ name." Ivan gasped, his eyes half-lidded as he watched Alfred ever so slowly but surely stroke his erection. 

"Ivan's a pretty Russian name. What would a lover call you?" Alfred asked, grasping Ivan with both hands. Both hands and it still wasn't enough to cover him.

Ivan squeezed his eyes shut, briefly, then opened them again to watch Alfred look utterly fascinated with the way his foreskin moved. Americans. 

" _Vanya_." Ivan answered, slightly uncertain of telling Alfred the name his sisters called him. 

" _Vanya._ " Alfred repeated before going down on Ivan once more. Ivan no longer regretted telling Alfred that name, not with the way Alfred rolled it off of his tongue, which was then rolling against Ivan's shaft. He sucked hard, again pulling Ivan in as deep as he could take him, mindful of teeth and more tongue than should be humanly possible. It wasn't long before Ivan was giving a warning groan, tugging on Alfred's hair. Alfred would have greatly liked to take it in his mouth and swallow it all down, but that little porn trick would have to wait until he got used to Ivan in his mouth in the first place. Alfred pulled back with a wet sound, licking and stroking Ivan through it. Ivan didn't make a sound aside from muted gasps, if it wasn't for the semen and slight tremors Alfred would have never been able to tell he was coming. 

Alfred wouldn't have called it 'buckets' per say, but it was certainly quite a bit. He also didn't really get any smaller, just softer. Alfred had read somewhere about showers and growers, though. The bigger a guy was, the less likely his size was to increase or decrease depending on blood flow and oh fuck he was still hard and Ivan laying back gasping flushed and all glowy just made Alfred want to wake his erection back up so he could give riding it a shot, size limitations be dammed. 

Ivan cracked one eye open, looking down and Alfred looking back at Ivan. The boy was biting his lip as he continued to stroke Ivan's far too sensitive now flaccid cock. Ivan plucked Alfred's glasses off his face and set them on the bedside table, motioning for the boy to come up to his level. Alfred scrambled up on hands and knees, unsure of what Ivan was planning. He took the lead from there, snaking an arm around Alfred's waist to pull him close and taking him in-hand. 

" _Крик для меня, мой милый._ " Ivan murmured, his voice was so deep and husky and sexy - it didn't matter what he said, not really. Alfred was already so fucking close, a few firm strokes and he was calling Ivan's name, _Vanya_ , over and over, bucking against Ivan's hand until his throat was raw and he was completely spent. 

It was so silent following that, Alfred could have sworn he could hear the snow falling outside, could feel Ivan's heart beating in time with his own. 

It was fucking romantic and shit. Ivan shifted just enough to lean over and blow the candle out, bathing the room in darkness. The fire in the living room had died to down to just above embers. 

"...I could not help but notice, you managed to be talkative while giving fellatio at the same time." Ivan commented, tugging the sheets over them. He kept one arm around Alfred, holding him close. "I thought you said it would keep you quiet." 

"Yeah, that was kind of a total lie." Alfred admitted without a trace of guilt, threading his fingers on Ivan's chest and resting his chin there. If he squinted his eyes, he could kind of make out the features of Ivan's face, blurry from the darkness and his lack of glasses. "I just _really_ wanted to go down on you, I would have said anything." 

"You are a sex offender waiting to happen, Alfred Kirkland." Ivan said tiredly, shifting to get more comfortable with Alfred at his side and halfway on top of him. The boy weighed more than he seemed, he was quite a bit of muscle despite the baby fat that seemed to be hanging around. Ivan tried to tell himself that it made him slightly less of a pervert. 

In the darkness, Ivan could see Alfred smile.

"You're just pissed off that I was right and got you to fuck around with me after all." 

"Good night, Alfred."

"So, hey, hey, I was thinking, _maybe_ we could like work up to you drilling me, you know? Like, take it slow, and _eventually-_ "

" _Good night, Alfred._ "


	16. "Listening and obeying are two different things."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At this point you'd think Ivan would learn that Alfred will say literally anything to get what he wants, but Ivan continues to try to set boundaries for the teenager. They have an intimate morning then things begin to cool (emotionally) as temperature begins to rise (climate-wise) and the snow starts to melt.

Alfred awoke before Ivan, but he was so groggy and disoriented, and Ivan was so warm and solid. The power was still out, it seemed. Everything was nice and dark. Alfred ended up just stripping his shirt off, tossing it aside, and snuggling back up under the covers. Sleep took hold of him once more an instant later. 

Ivan woke some time later. The dim light of day filtering through the curtains. The small electric clock he had forgotten to unplug flashed at 12:00 - at least the power was back on. Alfred was warm and comfortable in his arms, curled up against him like he belonged there. Ivan let out a deeply contented sigh, kissing Alfred's forehead and enjoying that brief peaceful moment of silence that Alfred's sleeping brought. Alfred let out a pleased little huff in Ivan's arms, and when he shifted closer Ivan felt that even if _Alfred_ wasn't awake, a certain part of his anatomy was. 

"Teenagers." Ivan muttered fondly, wondering if it would be crossing a line to touch Alfred while he slept, to give him something a little better than a kiss to wake up to. He let his arm around Alfred slip lower to rub circles on the skin of his lower back while Ivan debated. On the one hand, Alfred had been very explicitly consenting (as much as a minor could be held accountable to such things) last night, and seemed more than happy to jump Ivan the second he got even a hint of an erection before that. On the other hand, that was hours ago, and he didn't want to take advantage. 

Alfred seemed more than content to solve that problem on his own, however. He squirmed as Ivan stroked his back, lazily rolling his hips against Ivan's leg. The peace and quiet could really only last so long, and soon enough Alfred was letting out little breathy moans as he worked himself against Ivan's skin.

It was surprisingly erotic to watch, and cold of the room be dammed Ivan couldn't resist tugging the blankets down just a little bit for a better look. 

Alfred was already more than half-hard, and with the needy way he was rolling his hips to rub his cock against Ivan's leg he wasn't going to take long. His movement was leaving a small, shiny trail of precome against Ivan's skin. Goosebumps pricked Alfred's flesh with the cold air that flooded in from Ivan moving the blanket, and Alfred unsuccessfully tried to blink the sleep away from his eyes.

"Ugggh, s'cold." Alfred complained, pressing his face against Ivan's shoulder and attempting to press closer to sap more of his body heat. That didn't stop the movement of his hips, and the perfect curve of his ass was so very tempting. Ivan just _had_ to reach down and give it a squeeze.

_We are all going to die. I intend to deserve it._ A reasonable philosophy indeed if you were already on the road to hell.

"Alfred," Ivan murmured softly, fingertips trailing along the cleft of Alfred's ass, brushing lightly against the puckered ring of muscle hiding there. " _Alik_ , are you awake?"

"Mmm, no." Alfred said with a yawn, pushing back against Ivan's hand. 

"Pity, if you were awake I was going to ask if you wanted me to touch you more." Ivan said sadly as he pulled his hand away from Alfred's rear. Before he could get too far, Alfred grabbed his wrist and dragged it back to right where it was.

"I'm the most awake, dude you got _no idea_." Alfred's sleep slurred voice got out, though his face was still pressed against Ivan's shoulder. Was that close enough? Ivan decided that it was. 

He continued to lightly stroke the curves of Alfred's ass since Alfred seemed so fond of the attention there, and he was more than happy to give it. Ivan couldn't help but recall Alfred's comment last night, about working their way up to penetration... Ivan had come to content himself in the few physical relationships that he had to non-penetrative sex, but he _had_ quite enjoyed it the few times he'd been allowed. While he considered that train of thought, the hand that was formally pillowed under his head moved down to gently still Alfred's movement, taking the boy's erection in-hand again to work it to full hardness. 

"God, fuck, fuck, fuck, _yes_ ," Alfred breathed softly, even half-asleep he was so talkative, profanity slurring together into one mass of syllables that could make a sailor blush, with the occasional mixing in of a phrase that sounded distinctly like _'want you'_. What did 'want' mean to this kid that always got what he wanted, anyway? 

Ivan thought he was just going to give Alfred a quick hand job and call it good, but he was actually getting a little aroused by the way Alfred desperately bucked into his grip, cock throbbing in Ivan's fist. There was just something about a lover that made you feel so _wanted_ , so _desired_ \- 

He was a bad person and he was going to hell. 

Alfred clung desperately to Ivan's tank top, the only remaining clothing between the two of them, and continued to moan a string of unintelligible curses while he rocked against Ivan's hand. Ivan even stilled his movement just to see, and indeed Alfred 'picked up the slack' and brought himself to completion with a slurred moan of Ivan's name. 

Ivan laid there, holding Alfred close and panting almost as hard as the boy was. He gave Alfred an experimental tug. Alfred whined, and bucked his hips again. Even overly sensitive, he wanted more. Ivan wondered if he had fallen into bedfellows with an underage sex addict. 

He was a _bad person_ and he was _going to hell_.

"Mmm." Alfred stirred against Ivan in a way that wasn't just trying to initiate sex again. "Morning orgasms are _the best_." he sounded far less slurred and far more coherent. Ivan froze.

"Ah, you are awake?" Fuck, what if he felt used? Ivan prepared an apology.

"Let's stay in bed and fuck." Alfred suggested, pulling just far away enough from Ivan to throw a leg entirely over him and sit up across his hips. "We can get to know each other much better. I can't even fit you in two hands-" even as Alfred spoke he took Ivan's cock in both hands and began to stroke it, like he couldn't get enough of playing withe foreskin, watching as it covered the head of his cock one moment then could be tugged back the next. Ivan felt very objectified in the most appealing way possible. "You are seriously like way bigger than I was thinking you'd be. I was thinking pretty big."

"Enough of that, get off of me you little satyr. We are sticky and gross, and I need a shower." Ivan said seriously, struggling to not show how Alfred was affecting him. He wanted to flip the boy over, slick him up, then pound into him so hard that running would not be on Alfred's plate of sports anytime soon. 

"I could lick you all over instead, how about that?" Alfred offered, he hadn't let go of Ivan's dick.

Ivan slapped Alfred's ass lightly and gave him a warning look. Alfred bit his lip and scooted off Ivan's lap. Ivan mentally added spanking onto the possible agenda in the future, right under a thirtieth reminder to himself of how he was going to the special hell. 

Stretching his arms high above his head to work some of the sleep-cramps out of them and trying not to show shame (since it was clear Alfred was a total stranger to that concept) Ivan swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. Alfred stayed where he was. 

"I didn't say that you couldn't come with me." Ivan added with a glance over his shoulder before heading to the bathroom. He could hear Alfred jump off of the bed and run after him. 

 

The shower was _so_ not as sexy as Alfred was hoping. 

It was pretty sexy, admittedly. Kinda romantic and shit too, like Ivan washed his hair for him and helped him scrub the dried semen off, _and_ kissed him breathless more than a few times. He also let Alfred give him a slow and thorough hand job, watching quietly while Alfred played with him and learned every inch of him. 

Alfred was pretty sure it should be creepy how quiet Ivan could be, how he seemed to not blink as much as a normal person would while he watched Alfred jerk him off. The way he watched Alfred's face instead of his hands, and didn't break eye contact if Alfred looked up and happened to catch it. If Alfred was going to be perfectly honest, though, it was kind of a turn-on. He liked the way Ivan looked at him like some predator on the hunt. 

He liked the way Ivan looked at him like he was the only thing in the world. 

They way Alfred saw it, as long as he _knew_ something was bad for him, there wasn't any real harm in liking it, right? No more so than the harm there already was. Like it was okay to enjoy Twilight if you knew it was basically a romance novel and Mormon bible fanfiction with vampires instead of legitimately thinking that an abusive lover who wanted to hurt you was _actually_ something you should be looking for or that those kinds of relationships were okay. 

Kind of like how he was in a relationship with someone who was very clearly struggling to keep himself under control and on some kind of medication that Alfred hadn't thought to Google yet. 

...Oops.

But he knew what he was getting into, sort of, so that made it okay. He was pretty sure that made it okay.

For fuck's sake Ivan's dick was _huge_ , that made _everything_ okay. 

Alfred wasn't even paying attention to what kind of inane things he was talking about while he jerked Ivan off. Most of it was impulse, honestly. That horrific and chronic word-vomiting illness that had plagued him as long as he could remember. Ivan didn't say anything at all, just murmured the occassional order for Alfred to shut up (he didn't) or to watch his vocabulary (also ignored). When he came it was with a subdued grunt, eyes briefly squeezing shut as he tensed up and emptied into Alfred's hands before the shower washed it all away. 

The water had started going lukewarm by then. Ivan dried himself off and headed into the kitchen to make breakfast, leaving Alfred standing there in the shower holding his towel.

Alfred knew he had to leave the bathroom at some point. He was starting to shiver from the wet and the cold, but now that he was awake he could hear outside a sound he dreaded. 

_Rain._

If the snow had turned to rain, unless there was a sudden drop in temperature that flash froze everything, in a few hours the roads would be clear enough for Ivan to drive him home. Alfred didn't want to go home. He wanted to stay in Ivan's small and cozy house where he had to leech wireless internet off one of Ivan's neighbors and feed a cat that didn't belong to anybody.

Outside of the privacy-glass window Alfred heard the sound of wet snow tumbling off one of the higher branches of the evergreens. He shivered with the cold again, and reluctantly toweled off to go out into the living room and face the music.

He had to wear his clothes from the first day since he'd only brought one spare pair with him and those were still a little damp from the evening run last night. Ivan was in the kitchen making something in a pot that smelled like a lot of different things that totaled up to _delicious_. Alfred edged his way into the kitchen as quietly as he could, trying to think up some kind of plan to make it so maybe Ivan wouldn't look outside and see the vanishing snow.

" _-reports indicate that the cold front will be moving passed us and be gone by tonight. The rain is predicted to last until tomorrow, and the roads should be clear by early afternoon in some counties._ " 

The radio! STUPID RADIO, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO RUIN EVERYTHING? Before Alfred could yank the knob to turn it down, Ivan turned around and smiled at Alfred. Caught. 

"Looks like I should be able to drive you home after breakfast. Sit down, I won't have you leaving hungry." Ivan said, sounding stupidly cheerful about the whole thing. 

Alfred sat down. 

"... I don't wanna go home, I want to stay here." Alfred glanced at his reflection in a spoon. Yeah, he was totally failing at resisting to pout. God damn it. He was really bombing this 'mature and responsible adult' thing.

"That wasn't the deal we agreed on." Ivan said smoothly, stirring whatever it was that he was making in the pot. He wasn't looking back up at Alfred. Alfred was really starting to hate the way Ivan did that. 

"Yeah well I've agreed to a lot of things and then went back on it, I have a record to keep." Oh yes, Alfred was hitting record-setting levels of pout, that was for sure.

"Do you _usually_ maintain your relationships by simply being so obnoxious that the other party gives in so that you will shut up?" Alfred flinched at Ivan's words. It was his stupid stupid cheerfully cruel tone that Alfred could never figure out. Whether it meant that he didn't care at all or if he cared enough to intentionally hurt. 

"I'm not obnoxious." Alfred argued, but it was a weak argument. He knew he was. He couldn't help it, even as he sat there thinking _shut up shut up shut up_ the words just came out, like he didn't know how to _not_ say them. 

Because even negative attention was still attention. 

Because Ivan _still_ wasn't looking at him.

"...If I said this was over, how likely would you be to actually listen to me?" Ivan asked. Alfred wiggled his toes under the table and considered his answer.

"... Somewhere between zero and ten percent." He answered.

"Possibly as high as ten percent likely? That's higher than I thought." Ivan commented lightly. He grabbed bowls from the cabinets. 

"Listening and obeying are two different things." Alfred pointed out. He watched Ivan dish up the soupy stuff into the bowels and grab a loaf of hard-crusted bread to carry with them over to the table. Only when he put the food in front of Alfred did he look at him, _finally._ "By 'ten percent likely to listen' I mean ten percent likely to take it as a sign I need to try harder and redouble my efforts, and if you think I'm obnoxious _now_ you have not seen _anything_ yet."

Ivan raised an eyebrow. 

"Is that a threat?"

"Dude, I'm just saying. If you want obnoxious, I can give you obnoxious."

Ivan considered, then shook his head. A faint smile graced his lips as he did so. Alfred tried not to get his hopes up. He was about as successful with that as he was with the trying not to pout. 

"You're still going home after breakfast." Ivan told him. "But I guess I won't get rid of you until you're tired of me." 

Alfred's grin couldn't be contained. 

"Yeah, like. Try being less endearing. And less hot, that might work. It's your only hope."

 

Alfred blessedly ate breakfast without complaint. Ivan was halfway thinking that he was going to whine about borscht, but Alfred seemed happy to eat just about anything. Which was good, because Ivan really needed to finish off that pot of it that his sister had made him already so he could return the dish to her. He'd meant to do it on Christmas Eve but didn't get around to it - it was something he could do on the way back from dropping Alfred off.

Ivan just needed some time. Time alone before school started to get his thoughts together and figure out what he was going to do, how he was going to act depending on how subtle Alfred could be about anything at all. 

_Not very,_ Ivan was guessing. 

Alfred stood to help Ivan wash the dishes when it was time to clear the table, but Ivan grasped Alfred firmly by the shoulders and turned him around to point him at the living room instead. 

"I'll clean up, you get your things together. No arguing." Ivan lightly slapped Alfred on the ass again, causing the boy to jump in a way that was not entirely unpleasant. "Go." 

He kept watch on Alfred out of the corner of his eye, cleaning up the kitchen while Alfred packed up as slowly as humanly possible. Ivan couldn't afford to let the kid stick around, though. He needed breathing room, and the more time he spent around Alfred the less clear he would be thinking. The boy was more intoxicating than alcohol. 

The drive back was smooth sailing by the time they hit the main roads, which had been maintained by snow trucks. Alfred's neighborhood was also flat and grid-patterned to make it easy for navigating as well - one of the few neighborhoods in the area to not have winding roads and hidden cul-de-sacs. Ivan wondered if the little boxes style of houses had simply not found the patchwork community yet to have a good foothold, or if it had been attempted and quickly abandoned in favor of sticking with the unique flair. 

When Ivan pulled up in front of Alfred's home he saw that the driveway was still empty, and all the lights inside were off. Ivan's brow furrowed. 

"When is your brother getting home?"

"The second." Alfred answered quietly. "Same day as Kiku." 

That was a whole additional week away. 

"And your father?" Ivan asked, nodding in the direction of the empty driveway.

Alfred just shrugged. He grabbed his duffel bag from he small space behind the seats and opened the door. Ivan had expected more of a fight, but there was a defeated acceptance to Alfred's movements. All he did was lean in and steal a kiss before hopping out of the truck and making his way back into the house. Ivan sat in his truck as it idled, watching to make sure Alfred got in alright while he cursed a blue streak under his breath. 

The boy was going to be the death of him.

 

Alfred tossed his bag to the side of the doorway as he closed it behind him. His laptop and breakables were swaddled safely in a layer of clothing. Shoes were kicked off a moment later.

"I'm home." He called to the empty house, receiving only silence in return. Alfred meandered over to the couch and fell upon it, throwing an arm over his eyes while he just tried to wrap his mind around the cold empty shell he was in against the warm cozy security that was Ivan's place. 

He was used to being alone. And he was strong, so of course he didn't mind it. Only a wimp would whine about something they've always had to deal with. It wasn't like it was anything new. 

The problem with being alone was that Alfred lost his sense of time very easily when he didn't have the distraction of a second person involved. He could zone out on video games for hours before he realized he was hungry and had to eat, or just run until he was exhausted. When he heard the door open he just thought he had fallen asleep or something and it was his dad coming home. Alfred didn't move. Maybe if Arthur thought he was asleep he wouldn't bother Al. 

Heavy footsteps on the floor, pausing next to the couch. A gentle hand brushing through his hair -- a hand that wasn't his father's. 

Alfred moved his arm that was over his eyes and looked up to see Ivan looking down at him. 

"You didn't lock the door behind you." Ivan explained, "...Get enough clothes to last you the week. You should leave a note for your father too. I will be bringing you home on the first and you will _not_ be complaining about it. You must promise that you agree to this or I am leaving you here."

Ivan removed his hand from Alfred's forehead and crossed his arms. Alfred just stared at Ivan, unsure if he was dreaming or if it was real. 

"I promise." Alfred finally replied, the words feeling lame and unsure. It seemed to satisfy Ivan, however. He nodded. 

"Hurry up, then. I must stop by my sister's house on the way back." Ivan's words sent Alfred scrambling to his feet and past Ivan to grab his bag and run up the stairs so that he could find clean clothing in the mess of his room. 

"Do you think Na- uh Natasha will still be there?" Alfred called down as he grabbed some clean clothes and tossed his dirty ones into the hamper. After a moment of thought he stripped down to throw what he was currently wearing in with the clothes to wash as well, redressing in the first clean pair he could find. 

He yanked open one of the drawers at his computer desk. Lube and condoms. Would he need them? It wasn't like they would necessarily FIT Ivan but Matt told him to stay safe, and that meant 'don't get any STDs or unexpected pregnancies'. Matt loved his brother (probably) but he also knew Al was kind of easy. Better safe than sorry, and he was pretty sure Ivan couldn't hate him for being hopeful. He shoved them into his bag as well.

"... Very likely." Ivan called back up after Alfred, regarding the question about his sister. Alfred briefly considered bringing a paintball gun in self-defense. 

He took the stairs back down two at a time, blowing past Ivan with a call of "Just one more minute!" as he darted into his father's study. A second later he turned back around to hold onto the doorway while he looked back at Ivan. "There's - uh, like, a coffee maker in the kitchen and stuff if you want any. While you wait. Yeah." 

He really had no idea how this being a good host thing worked. Did you have to do it if you were only going to be there for a few minutes? Whatever.

Arthur's at-home office was as perfectly immaculate as ever. Slightly morbid and creepifying in that sense. Alfred tore off a sheet of stationary from the pad on Arthur's desk and scrawled out a quick note that he'd be staying with a friend for a week and his cellphone was with him and on in the event of an emergency. 

He hadn't gotten a single call since the initial texts when he first went to stay with Ivan. He didn't really expect any more. 

When Alfred came out of the study he saw Ivan in the kitchen, pondering over the coffee maker. Alfred had to wonder what the problem was, if it wasn't plugged back in. Nope, the display was on. It was super simple and state of the art-

Oh, right, the most advanced thing in Ivan's house was a radio.

That was probably the problem. 

"What is-" Ivan began to ask while gesturing at the buttons that made use of graphics that made sense if you had used the last three models before it but probably were Egyptian hieroglyphs with no Rosetta stone in sight if you hadn't. 

Alfred grabbed Ivan's hand instead.

"Actually, there's a drive-through Starbucks on the way to your sister's farm, how about we blow this popcicle stand and stop there instead? I can cover it." Alfred offered. He didn't know why, but he just really wanted to get the fuck out of the house. It had a way of feeling like a tomb sometimes, and this was one of those times. Which was probably for the best because otherwise Alfred would have likely been trying to convince Ivan to go up to his bedroom and fuck him senseless. He saved that thought for later.

"Starbucks?" Ivan protested, taking the bag from Alfred and easily hefting it over one shoulder, leading the way out of the house and pausing only when Alfred locked up behind them. "It is overpriced and barely coffee. I can make some back home." 

"C'mon, please? I need my caffeine fix and it isn't like you have any soda." Alfred whined, taking the steps down to he truck two at a time as he followed Ivan's long strides. 

"You are an addict." Ivan accused Alfred. It wasn't a 'no', however, which Alfred took note of and didn't comment on. He thought that was good, progress even! But when he leaned over to kiss Ivan again once they were in the truck, Ivan pushed him away before he could with a quiet "Not now." 

Cue a good ten minutes of Alfred sitting there anxiously pondering the meaning of that phrase. Only when they were out in the long stretches of road surrounded by farmland did Ivan turn to acknowledge him again. 

"...What's wrong?" Ivan asked, seeming surprised by Alfred - in the ten minutes he'd managed to slouch so low into the seat that his back ached but he kept his knees tucked against his chest, as if determined to become as small as possible while still remaining in his seat belt.

"You don't actually like me, do you?" Alfred accused without looking at Ivan. "You're just putting up with me because you're worried if you don't I'll get you in trouble." He wasn't looking at Ivan, but he could see the other man's reflection in the glass of the windshield. Ivan even had the gall to look startled and confused. 

" _What?_ Alfred, what gave you that idea?" Ivan asked. That just made Alfred angrier. 

"You didn't kiss me." Alfred was certain he was reaching epic levels of pout but he really didn't give a shit. He was upset and if he wanted to pout when he was upset then no one could fucking stop him. 

Ivan continued to stare at Alfred for a few seconds more before he sighed, shaking his head. 

"Alfred," Ivan said gently, reaching out to touch Alfred's hair, but the boy stubbornly moved away from the touch. "I like you. Far more than I should. But you have neighbors who have eyes. I should not even be seen driving to your house so much, let alone... if one of them _saw us kissing..._ "

Ivan would be fired, instantly. Maybe if Alfred was a girl he'd get a slap on the wrist or transfer or districts, but as much as America was beautiful and free and liberal at least in its own mind, if Ivan was simply forced out of the closet he would probably have trouble. If it was _with a student_ he could get arrested, especially if someone convinced Arthur to press charges. Alfred would be a social pariah for basically the rest of his life as far as that town was concerned, and that was assuming that didn't follow him to college. 

"Fuck, if _Max_ saw..." Alfred hadn't even considered, to be honest. He wasn't a consequences kind of guy. 

"Max? Max Ramirez?" Ivan asked, recognizing the name. One of the better students in his class that he could see.

"Yeah, the dickbag." Alfred grimaced. As he talked he untucked his legs from being pressed up close against his chest and sat up straight. They were still paused at a stop sign, but no cars were coming so the extended idling was no one's fucking business. "He's my neighbor. I'm - I'm sorry for freaking out on you, Ivan. I wasn't thinking."

When Ivan reached out to touch Alfred's hair again, Alfred didn't pull away. Ivan stroked the sunny yellow tresses, that stupid cowlick that Alfred hated, and his hand trailed to gently caress the back of Alfred's neck. That was when Ivan leaned over and gave Alfred the gentlest of kisses, it was like something from a movie or a fairytale. 

"I was harsh with you when I said no..." Ivan admitted when he pulled away from Alfred. "I should have explained myself then. We will go through the coffee drive-in for you, and then we will stop briefly by my sister's farm, and when we get back to my home I will kiss you until you are satisfied. If I do this will you forgive me?" 

Alfred couldn't stop the smile.

"I think if you want me to lose interest in you, you need to be less charming. Yeah, I like that idea." He said. Since there was no other cars on the road right then, Alfred shifted in his seat again - so that he could lean over and rest his head against Ivan's shoulder. 

" _Вы можете быть опасно очаровательной, тоже._ " Ivan murmured, which went right over Alfred's head as far as what he said. But his tone was warm and intimate, and he favored Alfred with a kiss to the top of his head before he moved the truck once more, so Alfred figured it couldn't be something too bad. 

 

Yekaterina's farm looked very different without the snow - the rain had washed the main roads clear by that point, and patches of grass could be seen peeking through the drifts. Ivan parked and grabbed the pot he had stashed in the back, nodding at Alfred to come with him inside. 

"It shouldn't take long." He assured Alfred. Balancing the cookware under one arm he knocked swiftly at the door before he pushed it open, not waiting for an answer. Few locked their doors around that area, and he could tell from the lights that she was surely home.

"Yekaterina?" Ivan called. He held the door for Alfred and the boy shuffled inside too, hanging up his coat then taking Ivan's to do the same. There _was_ an answering call of "Brother?" from upstairs, but Ivan's sudden paling confirmed Alfred's suspicion.

That wasn't Yekaterina's voice. Natalia was indeed still at her sister's home, and now knew that Ivan was there too.


	17. "Quebec was ... Quebec."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred arranges time to meet with Natasha separately and him and Ivan enjoy their last few days together. After bringing Alfred home, Ivan has a talk with one of his neighbors that sheds some more light on Alfred's favorite book, and Alfred comes to understand his brother just a little better.

Natalia was at the top of the staircase in an instant - she was still in a long skirt and sweater, though a different pair from last time Alfred had seen her. As happy as she looked when she saw Ivan, the look she gave Alfred could curdle milk in an instant. 

" _Ah,_ Natasha, it's so good to see you." Ivan lied, his smile twitchy and unnatural. "I need to speak with Katyusha, would you be a good sister and entertain Alfred for me while I find her? Thank you!" He moved to step away from Alfred, abandoning him like a sacrificial lamb to his sister's clutches. Alfred just barely managed to snag the back of Ivan's shirt to stop him.

"What? She'll fucking stab me!" Alfred hissed quietly, hoping that Natalia couldn't overhear them. 

"Do not be so dramatic - she probably won't stab you." Ivan tried to sound flippant, but Alfred could tell he would say just about anything to avoid any confrontation with his sister. That's the way he wanted to play it? Fine. _Fine_ , Alfred could play it that way.

"If I distract her for you, when we get back we are not just making out. You are going to _fuck me_."

Ivan looked between Alfred and Natalia, quickly assessing the situation as she made her way down the stairs. 

"Done." Ivan agreed. Alfred let go of his shirt and he made himself as scarce as possible. Before Natalia could go after him, Alfred stepped in her way, blocking the doorway by standing right in the middle of it and bracing his arms against the frame. She drew to a quick stop inches away from him, her expression sour as she was probably trying to decide if she could take him out or not and if it was worth it to try. 

"SO! Vanya told me you did ballet instruction! You must be amazing, huh?" Alfred said before she could come to a conclusion, using the pet name on purpose. Lying he wasn't great at, but pissing people off? Somehow he _excelled_ in that, and he figured if Natalia was too busy being angry at him she'd forget to go after Ivan. It was close enough to a plan. 

"Do not call my brother by that name. That is only for loved ones." Natalia hissed a warning, completely missing the rest of that sentence, just like Alfred figured. It was either he'd piss or off or she'd get flustered by the compliment.

"Yeah, exactly. Loved ones." Alfred agreed cheerfully. "Gosh that's real sweet of you to say, I was really hoping for the support of his family. You know there's a lot of people that are still in this backwards mindset about homosexuality and it's so refreshing to find people who understand that _love is love_ -"

That Natalia hit him wasn't so surprising. That it was a well-aimed sucker-punch to the gut kinda was. He was expecting a slap, really. Also, for being such a tiny girl she packed quite a punch. Seriously, he was pretty sure Max didn't hit as hard as she did.

"You listen to me," Natalia hissed, grabbing Alfred by the hair as he was temporally winded from the punch. She pulled until Alfred was looking at her, her angry eyes looked the same as Ivan's. "I told you to stay away from my brother and I meant it. He has been through too much and I won't allow another little whore like you coming in and hurting him. You don't know anything about him!"

"I know he had an accident." Alfred ventured. Natalia froze. "And you ... you're probably why he's still alive, aren't you?"

Despite that assessment there was no pride on Natalia's face when the shock cleared. Only a mixture of guilt and sadness.

"You care about him a lot, I get that." Alfred coughed out, continuing. "It's admirable. But I care about him too. I don't want to hurt him." 

"I don't believe you." Natalia growled. "You're just the same as Yao. You're going to use him and throw him away and I can't forgive that. _I won't let that happen again!_ "

"How can I make you believe me? Who is Yao, what did he do?" Alfred asked, sensing a chance at possibly finding out more. Who this goddamn ghost was that was haunting Ivan.

"Like I'll tell you." Natalia snarled, though there was a hesitancy in her voice. Alfred had a proverbial foot in the door, he knew it, he just had to keep pressing at that opening.

"How can I assure you I'm different if I don't know?!"

Natalia's trace of hesitancy blossomed into a complete pause at that, considering Alfred's words. Before she could answer there came a call from the kitchen. 

"Are you two alright out there?" came Katyusha's voice. Natalia's eyes went wide, shooting between Alfred and the doorway. She let go of his hair. 

"Yeah! Doin' great! Like houses on fire!" Alfred called back, he never understood that phrase but it seemed to fit well enough. He ran a hand through his hair to straighten it out and looked back at Natalia, mouthing _'Please.'_

"...Not here." Natalia replied. It wasn't a no. 

 

Moments earlier, Ivan found the sister he was actually looking for in the kitchen. Yekaterina was working on an early lunch, making a fresh pot of borscht for her and Natalia. The radio was on, playing some American music from many decades ago. Ivan could recognize the voice of Sinatra as she quietly sang along, some words fumbled over but still greatly improved from even just a year before. 

"Katyusha?" Ivan called over the music to get her attention. She yelped, dropping the spoon. 

"Vanya!" she replied, and seeing it was just him she continued in their native Russian. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in! Did Natasha...?"

" _She_ heard me." Ivan said with a roll of his eyes. "Alfred is keeping her occupied now." 

"Fredka?" Yekaterina exclaimed, casting a worried glance back the way Ivan came. "That's risky!" 

"He's a risk-taker." Ivan replied, stepping past Yekaterina and placing the pot back in her cabinet. "He volunteered."

"Because you bribed him, I'm sure." Yekaterina gently scolded without any venom in the words. "...He is still staying with you? I thought you said you were taking him home after the storm passed, when you came over for dinner."

Ivan sighed, pulling a chair out and sitting at the dinner table, watching his sister cook. There was something soothing about Yekaterina's cooking. She was the mother that Ivan and Natalia never knew. Some called her weak and cowardly and indeed Yekaterina was nervous especially around strangers, but when she was in her own home, someplace comfortable to her, her quiet strength glowed trough. It was a tragedy she never had children of her own to raise, Ivan thought to himself. 

"How come you never got married, Katyusha?" Ivan asked instead of answering her question, propping his chin up on his palm while he watched. Yekaterina laughed softly.

"The same reason Natalia didn't _stay_ married, I suppose." She answered, "You will never have a wife, and someone needs to take care of you." 

_'There are many more reasons to why Natalia did not stay married.'_ Ivan thought, though that remained unvoiced.

"Who says I need to be taken care of?" Ivan muttered instead, just somewhat indignant at her assessment. He didn't even have to look at Yekaterina to know she was smiling. 

"Anyone who looks at you long enough." Ivan's sister's voice was light and gently teasing. "Though... little Fredka certainly seems up to the job, or at least willing to try. He really is darling."

"Then you date him, he is troublesome." Ivan huffed. 

"It is you that he is taken with." Yekaterina paused in her cooking, looking up. "My goodness, Vanya, what happened?"

Ivan had entirely forgotten about Alfred's earlier right-hook that caught him square in the jaw. The bruise had at least faded quickly, it didn't look as bad as it did the night before. "I fell." he lied. It was an obvious lie, but said with enough force that Yekaterina knew this was not a subject to press. Natasha intimidated Ivan, and Ivan intimidated Yekaterina. He didn't like inspiring that emotion in people, but he couldn't deny it had its uses.

It wasn't her finding out that Alfred hitting him that was the problem - she would ask why, and then Ivan would have to admit that he had almost assaulted the boy, and then she would ask if he was taking his medication and if they should ask the doctor about raising the dosage. _Medication._ Ivan suddenly remembered, he had forgotten to take it today. He'd have to remember when he got home. He was already thankful he was on a halved dosage, he didn't want to give anyone reason to believe that needed to be upped. 

Even knowing Ivan's words were a lie, Yekaterina just nodded and went back to stirring the mixture of food in the pot in front of her. She could hear Natalia and Alfred's talking before, just barely, over the hum of the radio. Now there was only silence. "Are you two alright out there?" she called in English, rather than addressing the elephant in the room. 

"Yeah! Doin' great! Like houses on fire!" Alfred's voice called back after a moment more of silence. 

Neither Ivan nor Yekaterina were put at ease by this. No one got along with Natalia. No one. Even her ex-husband didn't really 'get along' with her. 

"That is very suspicious." Ivan said, looking out in the direction of where he had left the two. 

"Very." Yekaterina agreed. "Do you want to check on them?"

"No." Ivan said quickly. "Do you?"

"No." Yekaterina agreed just as quickly, grabbing some bowls. "Are the two of you hungry? You could stay for lunch." 

Ivan stood from the table, straightening out his shirt. "No, we actually finished off the borsch you made me _last time_ for breakfast this morning." 

"Oh? Did Alfred like it?" Yekaterina asked with a smile.

"Very much so-"

"Then I will pack you some for tomorrow." She said cheerfully, so cheerfully that Ivan didn't want to tell her no. She pulled out the pot again and poured half of the borsch into it for Ivan before securing the lid on top of it. "There. Now you will not go hungry, da?"

"I know how to cook." Ivan reminded Yekaterina. "I am not helpless."

"But you will be entertaining a guest, Vanya. Will he be coming with you for your birthday dinner?"

" _Shit_ , I had forgotten. Yes, I suppose he will. He is staying with me for another week."

"It is good to know these things ahead of time." Yekaterina said serenely. "... Back in St. Petersburg he would be an adult, you know." 

"You - I've never told you how old he was. How did you-?"

" _He_ told me. I assumed he would have mentioned... he takes a class at the same place I get my English lessons. I see him and his friend Kiku every week."

"No." Ivan said, the growl evident enough in his voice that it made his sister flinch. "He didn't feel the need to mention. It's too quiet out there, I am checking on them."

He stood from the table and headed back out to where he had left Natasha and Alfred.

 

"So when can you tell me about Ivan?" Alfred asked. 

"Not now." Natasha repeated. "When are you free from work?"

"Work?" Alfred repeated before he realized - Natasha assumed he was an adult, perhaps one of Ivan's coworkers. Certainly not a student, _his_ student. "Weekends." He blurted, not correcting her mistake. "Not this weekend, but-"

"Sunday. I have no appointments that day." She pulled out a small card case from a pocket hidden in the folds of her skirt. Popping it open she passed him a red card with elegant silvery white script - a business card. Her name, _Natasha Braginskaya_ , along with a phone number and address and the description _Private Ballet Instruction_. "Meet me at my studio at one o'clock exactly."

Alfred took the card in his hand, turning it over in his fingers a few times and looking at her warily. Was his luck really holding out so well?

"You're going to tell me?" Alfred asked, just to be sure. "What happened-?"

"I will see if you are worth the trouble you would put my brother through." She hissed. Alfred had no idea what that meant but it was worth the risk, he decided in an instant. 

"I am." Alfred figured it probably had to mean something with that he didn't argue that he wasn't trouble - just that he was trouble that was worth it. "I'll be there."

"Alfred?" came the call of Ivan's voice from the kitchen, and Al jumped in surprise. When Ivan turned the corner he and Natasha had put several feet of distance between one another, and Natasha was steadfastly ignoring him. 

"Um, hey Ivan. Good to go?" Alfred asked, trying not to sound nervous and quickly hiding Natasha's card in the back pocket of his jeans. Hopefully Ivan wasn't going to cop a feel on his ass anytime soon and did he actually just think that because that _had_ to be a first. "...I thought you were going to be giving the pot _back_." 

Ivan looked down at the pot under one arm that held even more borsch from his sister. He had to accept that he was never going to leave without more food in it. Ivan sighed.

"Just get in the truck."

 

Alfred liked Ivan's truck for a lot of reasons. One, it was reliable. Seriously, he was pretty sure his dad's top of the line car didn't perform so well in snow and rain as Ivan's, though that could have just been that Ivan was a good driver, too. TWO it defrosted like _fucking magic_. Seriously, _fucking magic_. It went from cold as fuck to warm in an instant, and even when it was all frosted over it took very little scraping of the windows and the truck otherwise took care of itself. Three? It was reliable when it came to speed as well. No time at all and they were back at Ivan's house. Alfred wanted to just drop everything then and there and run in for hot and heavy make-outs, but Ivan was more subdued in his motions. He grabbed the pot under one arm and Alfred's bag with the other. 

"Get the keys." Ivan told Alfred, as his hands were rather full. Alfred snatched the keys from the ignition and darted out to run past Ivan to get the door. He held it open for Ivan, watching the older man's ass very closely as he passed. His jeans were a little on the tight side - or Alfred's mind was a little on the dirty side, could have been either, honestly. 

Alfred took his bag from Ivan and set it as stealthily as possible inside Ivan's bedroom rather than by the couch. Ivan stashed the pot in the fridge. 

"Sooooo, since I dealt with your sister and all, I believe we had a deal." Alfred said, fingers threading together behind his back as he watched Ivan move around in the kitchen. It took Alfred a moment to figure out just what he was doing before he realized that he was making _coffee_. That pot was practically _vintage_. 

"Already?" Ivan asked, not looking up from his task. "We just got in. You can't tell me you're ready to go already." 

Alfred sauntered on up behind Ivan, wrapping his arms around Ivan's waist and toying with the older man's belt buckle. 

"I'm a teenager, in case you forgot." he reminded Ivan, breathed in his scent, pressed against his back. Ivan's muscles were so hard. "God, you smell good. No half-assing it, I want you inside of me. Hey, can I give you a hand job while you make coffee? Get you started, yeah?" 

He wasn't really waiting for an answer, deftly snapping open Ivan's belt buckle and getting his trousers open before Ivan's hand fell over his, stilling them. 

"Shh, calm down, child. Go sit, I'll bring some coffee, and after that we can... see where we are."

"But I don't want to wait. I want _now_." Not for the first time Alfred flinched at the whining tone in his own voice. He let Ivan go, very reluctantly. When he stepped away, Ivan slapped his ass in a way that was probably encouraging, it made Alfred jump, and did absolutely nothing to help that whole 'calm the fuck down' bit. He wanted Ivan to take him on that tiny kitchen table. He wanted to show that he was good, though. That he was capable of being an adult and in control of himself and all of that other shit, so he went back to the couch and grabbed his laptop to find something on netflix worth watching. 

By the time Ivan got to the couch with coffee, Alfred had mostly calmed down into Sane And Reasonable again. Mostly. He had told Ivan he wanted to show him Firefly, so he found the first few episodes of it and set them up in instant play queue. Ivan was mildly entertained by it, though by far the most entertaining part was Alfred's comment at the spaceship maneuver called a 'crazy Ivan' -

"Ugh, they're saying it wrong, I'll never be able to unhear that." Alfred muttered. In the few minutes since the episode started he had worked his way half onto Ivan's lap - still seated on the couch but with his legs thrown over Ivan's while they drank their coffee. 

"Maybe he was an American." Ivan suggested, sipping his coffee to hide a smile. Alfred being indignant shouldn't be so entertaining, but he just got the funniest expression on his face, a little red and flushed along with angry. 

"No one's American, America doesn't exist anymore. There was like a third world war, America and China allied - the Alliance means the Anglo-Sino Alliance. And then there were a lot of resource crisis things and humanity took to space." Alfred explained "They go into it more in later episodes and the movie and there's a lot of interviews with the creator where he explains it."

"Hmmm, makes sense why they all sound American. Their Chinese is... strange, too." Ivan said with a shake of his head. 

"Dude, you know Chinese?" Alfred asked - the question of languages didn't come up, he knew English was a difficult language to learn if it wasn't your first, so he didn't even consider that there could be something other than English and Russian. 

Ivan laughed again, shaking his head. "No," he answered, setting his coffee mug down on the table and letting his hands rest on Alfred's legs, stroking them through his jeans. "I know a few words and phrases in Chinese and could reasonably survive and find my way back to Russia if dropped in Beijing, but I do not _know_ the language and am by no means fluent."

"That's better than I got." Alfred muttered with a snort, lifting his knees a but so Ivan could work his hands under them, palms working their way up to his thighs. "I can correctly pronounce food names and sound like a racist and that's pretty much all I got." 

Alfred was pouting then, and it was really too much. Ivan leaned in to kiss him. The rest of the show was forgotten as Alfred shifted in Ivan's lap to sit across it, sitting up on his knees so he could be level with Ivan's mouth, so he could return the kiss and give several of his own until there was no telling where one ended and the next began. Ivan's hands on Alfred's thighs drifted up to cup his ass through his jeans, settling there and just enjoying how well it seemed to fit in Ivan's grip. 

"Hey," Alfred whispered when they broke for air, his lips were so red and shiny and Ivan couldn't stop looking at them. " _Hey,_ you promised me." Alfred pushed back against Ivan's hands for emphasis. Ivan squeezed on instinct. 

"I did." Ivan agreed softly. "Are you sure-?"

"God, _yes_ , how many more fucking times do I gotta tell you that?"

"One thousand four hundred and forty times a day, every day, until you're eighteen." Ivan said, leaning in to murmur his words against the sensitive skin where Alfred's shoulder met his neck. 

"That's - unf - " Alfred drew in a sharp breath, brain shorted out as he felt Ivan's teeth biting gently, wanting to urge him on, to leave a mark. "-That's as many minutes as there are in a day."

"Then start talking."

Alfred wanted to argue, wanted to have a very serious conversation regarding his very explicit consent and how he wanted Ivan to hold him down and ravish him without asking every five seconds if it was okay. 

He just _wanted_ , so much. But Ivan was kneading his fingers against Alfred's ass and sucking on his neck, and Alfred was left with very little ability to protest anything. 

"Yes, yes, yes," Alfred breathed, like a mantra, like a prayer. He rocked his hips against Ivan, rubbing against his abs as Ivan continued to grope his ass. _Fuck_ , he never realized how sensitive that was until Ivan put his hands all over it. Alfred wanted Ivan inside of him, and he wanted it now. "Fuck me, fuck me, _fuck me_ -" he repeated, until Ivan let out a low growl and shoved Alfred onto his back on the couch. Alfred squirmed with delight, hands going to the fastenings on Ivan's trousers.

"We shouldn't do this on the sofa." Ivan's words were rough, strained from trying to hold himself back. Alfred continued to fumble with the buttons on Ivan's pants, made all the more difficult with the way he was still bucking his hips, rubbing their need together, desperate for the friction. How'd that song go? _I know what I want and I want it now-_

"If I let you go, you might change your mind." Alfred whined, too preoccupied to worry over much about sounding like a petulant child. Ivan growled again, batting Alfred's hands away. He had no such difficulty with Alfred's jeans, almost ripping the zipper clean off. He grasped at the empty belt loops after that, yanking the trousers down and off along with his boxers without a pause. A second later he pulled away from Alfred, only to hoist the boy up and over his shoulder before he could get a protest out. 

"Wha- hey!" Alfred squawked, finding himself suddenly upside-down. Ivan slapped his ass, hard.

"Stop squirming or I'll drop you." The Russian threatened, making his way to the bedroom. 

"You just like spanking me." Alfred accused, so Ivan slapped his ass again. The skin was already blossoming into a pleasant rosy shade, flesh giving off a wonderful heat. 

"Maybe." Ivan said agreeably, fingertips trailing along Alfred's sensitive skin. The boy had to grip the back of Ivan's belt to keep himself somewhat steady, and the sound he made when Ivan groped him was anything _but_ displeased. 

Ivan managed to keep Alfred balanced all the way to the bedroom, where he hefted Al off his shoulder and onto the comforter. Alfred let out a soft 'oof', dazed for a second by the sudden change in position, in an instant he was back up and on his knees, fumbling again with the fastenings of Ivan's trousers with new found urgency. The teacher groaned, carding his fingers through Alfred's hair as Alfred let out another pleased sound of delight when he freed Ivan's hardening length from the cloth confines. 

Alfred wasted no time getting his mouth all over it, kissing and tonging at the heated skin, using his hands only as much as he had to because Ivan was a little too big to manage with mouth only - even a talented one like Alfred's. 

" _Alik-_ " Ivan warned - he knew he had stamina, but even he would not be able to hold out if Alfred was determined to suck him off, especially when it was far too erotic to watch the way Alfred sucked on as much of Ivan's cock as he could easily fit in his mouth at once, like Alfred was just as aroused by the action as Ivan was. He let Ivan slide out from between his lips to take him in hand, lips red and shiny already. 

"Geeze, gotta get you slick now, don't I?" Alfred complained wit a grin.

"I _do_ have lubricant, I would hardly try taking you on spit alone." Ivan tried to sound indignant. It was shockingly difficult to do under Alfred's attentions. 

"But spit is more fun." Alfred's tongue darted out to catch the remains of the taste of Ivan on his lips. Ivan crawled onto the bed then to join Alfred, and for a time the two were caught up in the sensations of kissing and touching and exploring each other. Ivan had to fight to keep his urges in-check, keep himself from doing something like biting Alfred or holding him too tight. Whenever it became difficult to keep his touches tender he reminded himself of all of the possible punishments for their affair being discovered. He could be fired, he could be arrested, he could be _deported_...

Alfred did not have the same problem, gleefully nipping and biting at any skin available to him, leaving several marks along Ivan's neck and shoulders. 

"C'mon, _c'mon_ -" Alfred demanded, eagerly spreading his legs in invitation when Ivan's hand slid between them to rub at his testicles, then lower. 

"Alfred, you must let go of me so I can get the lube." Ivan said, his breath rough against Alfred's skin. The way he was writhing against Ivan, it was so hard to not sink his teeth in, to leave marks, to claim him. 

"Fuck, why didn't you do that first?" Alfred whined, but managed to let go of Ivan, reaching back instead to grip at the headboard to keep his hands otherwise occupied. By god he was a sight, stretched out and wanting. His glasses were skewed on his face. Ivan plucked them from the bridge of Alfred's nose and set them aside on the dresser as he got the lube and condoms he had purchased in the event of a 'just in case'. He hadn't gotten that many, assured in his own celibacy for quite some time. It was looking like he would have to get more next time he went shopping, if Alfred had anything to say about it. 

Ivan returned to settle between Alfred's legs on the bed, and the younger partner raised his hips for Ivan without needing to be asked. "You are looking forward to this." Ivan observed aloud, squeezing some of the lubricant out onto his fingers, rubbing it between them to make sure it wasn't unpleasantly cold. 

"God yes. I want you to fucking drill me - it's all I think about. That and blowing you." 

"Penetration through one hole or another, I think you have a fetish, Alfred."

Alfred hooked one leg around Ivan's wast to tug him closer. 

"You gonna stick it in or not? I'm not getting any younger."

"Would that I could keep you just like this until you were legal." Ivan muttered, leaning in to kiss Alfred and silence any further protests from him. Ivan's hands went back to work then, his index finger slowly circling that ring of tight muscle while his other hand very gently stroked Alfred's erection to keep him relaxed through the slow but inexorable penetration. He worked only one finger in at first, to make sure Alfred could take him in easily enough. He was incredibly tight - far _too_ tight, and Ivan's doubts about the likelihood of penetrative sex being a possibility returned in full force. "Alfred..." he began, not sure how to have that conversation exactly.

" _More_ , c'mon, I can work like two into myself pretty easy now, I'm not going to break." Alfred encouraged, rocking his hips against Ivan's palm on his dick.

"My hands are much bigger than yours." Ivan commented even as he complied, working a second finger in. _'As is the rest of me'_ went implied but unsaid. 

"Ffffff _uck_ ," Alfred groaned out, just two fingers inside of him and it felt like they were caught in a vise. "More, c'mon, this is nothing." He encouraged anyway, brow covered with sweat. Ivan ignored the request this time, flexing his fingers and trying to stretch Alfred around them before he even tried with a third. Alfred cursed as he tried not to squirm too much around the intrusion. It was hurting more than he was expecting it to, but he wasn't about to let a little bit of pain stop him. 

"Alfred, if you cannot take even this, perhaps we should wait-" Ivan began, but just then he found precisely what he was looking for inside Alfred. All of a sudden Alfred screamed out with surprise and delight, whole body trembling as Ivan struck his prostate. 

" _Theeeeeere_ -" Alfred encouraged, as if Ivan couldn't tell that well enough from the way he reacted. Ivan continued to stroke Alfred's cock but let his thumb drift lower, rubbing at his perineum to give him the sensation inside and out. The problem was the more aroused Alfred got, the more wound up he got, and the harder it was for him to relax around the intrusion of Ivan's fingers. Even with attempts at stretching, a third would simply not go in yet, and two was nowhere near comparable in size for what Alfred was begging to be put into him (loudly and repeatedly as Ivan worked his long, thick digits inside of Alfred). 

That was when Ivan got an idea. 

" _Alik_ , I want to watch your face when you come, can you show me that?" Ivan asked, leaning down to kiss Alfred's stomach right under his bellybutton. The muscles twitched at the contact - Alfred was no virgin to the touches of others but he was certainly acting like that with Ivan. Everything about it was just so _new_.

"B-bullshit, I want to come with you inside me, you fucking _promised_ , we had a _deal_ , god fuck fuck fuck keep touching me there Ivan, harder, oh god, _Ivaaaaaahhhn_ -"

Ivan applied relentless pressure to Alfred's insides, giving up all hope of actually stretching for the time being, ducking down lower to lick at just the tip of Alfred's erection to taste the precome that was oozing out. 

"Then I suppose you'll have to be able to orgasm twice, _da?_ " If the attitude of the little sex addict had been any indication, that should be no problem whatsoever. It wasn't difficult to bring Alfred to completion after that, mercilessly massaging that spot inside that drove him wild, pressing against the skin that would apply pressure to it as well on the outside, favoring Alfred's erection with a quick and teasing swipe of tongue here and there. Alfred squeezed his eyes shut when he came with a call of Ivan's name, so tight around him that Ivan briefly wondered if anyone had actually broken fingers while doing something like this before he _relaxed_. 

Maybe the afterglow would make things easier. 

"Stay awake for me, darling." Ivan's voice was rough - it would be so easy to just plunge into Alfred and surely he'd just adjust to fit, he'd deal with it, he'd been _asking_ for it- _**no.**_ Adult, responsible one, he'd had this talk with himself multiple times, though admittedly if he'd had been a better listener he wouldn't have been in this situation in the first place, but that bridge had already been burned and there was no place to go but forward. 

Applying more of the lubrication Ivan pressed his fingers into Alfred again, who let out a little over-sensitive whimper, but still pressed closer to Ivan. 

"I _want_ you." Alfred murmured, eyes half-lidded while he watched Ivan work, trying to not lose himself too much to the pleasant fog of relaxation.

"I know." Ivan replied. It was easier this time, he could actually _move_ the fingers inside of Alfred, though he tried to avoid too much stimulation to the prostate considering his borderline abuse of it moments before. Alfred continued to make small, soft sounds that should not have added to Ivan's arousal as much as they did. He silently promised himself that if any sound that even vaguely resembled a 'no' passed Alfred's lips he would instantly pull away and go finish himself off in the bathroom without a word of protest in return. 

A 'no' never came, though. Hoping - _praying_ that he had done enough, Ivan grabbed the condom from where he had left it on the bed and quickly pulled it on. He winced a bit at the tightness of it - not _painful_ but penetration wasn't the only area where his 'gifts' caused problems, he truly needed to go to a sex shop to get the kind of condoms that were best. Well, that would be one more gate of hell to cross in the future. _He_ was ready, and Alfred was already recovering - raising his hips off the blankets in invitation, spreading his legs as wide as he could. Ivan hooked his arms under Alfred's knees to get them up and over his shoulders so that he could kiss Alfred breathless before they went further. 

"Are you ready?" Ivan asked, telling himself that he could take a 'no'. That Alfred _should_ say 'no'.

" _Please_ , now!" was what Alfred called instead. Ivan lined himself up and _pushed_ -

Three fingers had _not_ been enough. 

Alfred felt _wonderful_. Tighter and hotter than anything, Ivan wanted to hold him down and bite his neck and just- but just getting the head of his erection in yielded far more friction than was healthy.

"Why'd you stop-? _K-keep going-_ " Even as Alfred urged Ivan on his voice was laced with the strain of taking him in as little as he had. "I can take it."

"No, you can't." Ivan said through gritted teeth. He pushed in, just slightly, just to _see_ -

Alfred cried out, and this time it wasn't from overwhelming pleasure. 

"No, no, I will hurt you if I keep going, we're stopping." Ivan hissed. He could just go into the bathroom and beat off, there was no shame in it if it meant you were doing it to keep from hurting your partner. Your _young teenage partner_ who of course wouldn't be able to take your _freakishly oversized penis_ which was quickly becoming far more trouble than its worth. 

Alfred still cried out in disappointment as Ivan pulled out, his erection hadn't quite been killed by the pain and he was flushed and panting all over again. As Ivan suspected, Alfred took no time at all to recover. 

"You _promised_." Alfred whined, reaching up to hold on to Ivan's shoulders to keep him from moving away. "I want you to fuck me!"

" _I said **no**!_ " 

Nothing was quite a mood killer as _that_ tone, Ivan was too familiar with that tone of his own voice, the tone that said there would be pain if it wasn't listened to. Alfred just stared at him, eyes wide, but they held only surprise at the volume rather than fear. 

"I'm sorry, Alik, I'm- I'm sorry, I should not have raised my voice." Ivan kissed Alfred's cheek, his jaw. "We will have sex like you want, just... not _now_. Working up to it will just mean more than less than an hour of stretching right before we want to try."

"But you're still hard." Alfred pointed out, tilting his head to the side so Ivan could kiss and lick wherever he wanted. He still had his knees hooked up over Ivan's shoulders, was still spread wide for him. "Let me at least blow you, or we could rub up against each other, or-"

"Intercrural." Ivan said, epiphany suddenly striking him. He shifted Alfred's legs off of his shoulders so that he could lean back and find where he had dropped the lube at.

"What-?"

"Inter- I do not know the American slang for it. If you've watched pornography I'm certain you have seen it before. Keep your legs spread." Ivan ordered, and Alfred continued to watch curiously as he poured more lubrication onto his fingers, but this time he spread it generously across the insides of Alfred's thighs instead.

" _OH!_ " Alfred exclaimed with understanding, seeing where Ivan was going. "Princeton First-Year!"

It was Ivan's turn to ask "What?"

"The - the slang. Princeton First-Year, or, uh, uh, Oxford Style? Because of - oh god it is so not fucking important." Alfred found the strength to scramble up on to his hands and knees, keeping his thighs pressed tightly together instead of spread as wide as he could. Ivan was thankful he did not have to explain what he needed to do. 

_Eventually_ he'd give Alfred the penetration he wanted. Until he could work Alfred's body up to taking it, though, they'd find other ways. 

Ivan pushed between the slick pressure of Alfred's thighs, angling his hips so that he was also rubbing against Alfred's cock and balls in the process. Even with Alfred's earlier pain and how tightly wound up Ivan was, it was still Alfred that cried out and came first, for the second time. He kept his thighs tight around Ivan even as his orgasm blurred his senses once more, and this time Ivan wasn't that far behind him.

 

The next few days were a pleasant blur. Ivan woke up early to go grocery shopping one morning and came back with a six-pack of coke for Alfred along with a few single serving pints of ice cream. Ivan didn't know what flavor Alfred liked, so he got one of all of the tiny ones. Ivan then discovered that Alfred's favorite flavor of ice cream was simply "ice cream". Beyond that they spent the days quietly, Ivan read and Alfred played his games and harassed Ivan into watching movies with him. In between everything Alfred tried to derail the daily activities into sex, sex, sex. Ivan was starting to feel his age when compared to Alfred. The boy was ready to go at a moment's notice and needed very little recovery time between sessions. Ivan needed a few hours and felt that once a day was more than enough. He wondered if he spent more time with Alfred if his own libido would raise to match the American's - he dearly _hoped_ that it was simply a matter of him being celibate for more than two years and needing time to 'restart', so to speak. Otherwise things would very quickly get awkward.

There was certainly something to be said about a lover who was not just enthusiastic, but very vocally approving. Even if every cry of _yes_ and _please_ made Ivan more and more certain of his place in Hell. 

It was so easy to fall into routine. Alfred was like white noise, pervasive and annoying at first, then the next thing you knew they were simply a part of your life. It was frightening when Ivan realized that after only a few days of sleeping with the boy that he no longer startled even slightly at the presence next to him when he woke up, and he hadn't had a regular 'partner' in over a decade. 

Ivan wondered, briefly, if Alfred was so lost within himself for that very reason. Living with that for a few days was one thing, but doing so every day of your life? No, white noise probably wasn't right. He was a black hole.

 

Ivan's dinner with his sisters and Alfred went much more mildly than he had expected. Alfred still cheerfully dominated the conversation by talking about absolutely nothing, Natalia continued to ignore him and speak Russian at every possible moment to exclude him from the conversation, but beyond that the two did not butt heads in any way. Ivan wondered if they had perhaps reached some kind of understanding when he left Alfred to deal with his younger sister so he could escape.

The thought unsettled him to the point that Ivan decided he would be happier if Natalia _had_ attempted to stab Alfred. He knew enough of what both of them were capable of on their own to worry about what they could do if they combined efforts. 

 

The morning of the first was completely unwelcome in every way imaginable. 

The night before had been as perfect as Alfred could have ever hoped for. During the fourth of July there were fireworks down at the lake, but the local city rules were pretty strict otherwise. They could only be sold from late June to July fourth, and only discharge during a fourteen hour window on the fourth itself. That didn't prevent people from lighting them off, of course, but there were no big events for Alfred to feel sad about missing because he had to worry about being seen with Ivan in public now. Ivan's nice neighbors did come call him over to light off sparklers with them in their almost-shared back yard (separated only by low and unobtrusive privacy hedges). Since they didn't know Alfred and seemed to make the same assumption of Natalia - that Alfred was Ivan's of-age lover, possibly a coworker - Ivan let Alfred drag him out into the small yard to light up the little sparks of light and watch the trails from it. At first Alfred was a little weirded out by how accepting the two women were of their relationship, until the smaller brunette woman tugged on the collar of the taller blonde so that she could steal a kiss. 

'LESBIANS.' Alfred mouthed at Ivan, who rolled his eyes. ' _Hot_.' Alfred mouthed next, because Ivan seemed to need that explaining. 

For some unknown reason, that seemed to annoy Ivan. He made polite excuses and dragged Alfred back inside. Alfred was expecting to get yelled at. Instead Ivan shoved him down on the couch and kissed him breathless while roughly jerking Alfred off. After that Alfred convinced Ivan to stay up until midnight with him to watch the local landmark shoot off county-approved fireworks on streaming web video, though Alfred missed most of them in favor of kissing Ivan as the news called out 'zero'. The next few hours were lost to giving Ivan the most thorough blow job of his life, then Ivan seeing if he could get Alfred to come just from fingering his ass alone. Discounting the stimulation to Alfred's nipples which Ivan was quickly growing fond of biting, it was a success with flying colors, and Alfred dozed through Ivan's clean-up of the both of them until he could curled up against Ivan and fall asleep proper. Alfred even had pleasant dreams, though he couldn't remember them when he woke back up. Rather unpleasantly, he might add, at the crack of -- oh, noon.

Ivan was so warm against Alfred, he squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to will the morning away. 

"I saw that." Came Ivan's voice, his hand on Alfred's back sliding up to stroke at his hair. Alfred was holding tight to Ivan, curled up at his side with his head pillowed on Ivan's chest, listening to the beat of his heart and the steady breathing. 

"I'm not awake." Alfred said, squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as he could. "So you can't kick me out."

"It's already noon, I have let you sleep as late as you wanted." Ivan's voice was cheerful, but there was an undercurrent of warning to it just the same. "I am taking you home today _for real_ because both your brother and your friend will be back tomorrow, and if you cause a fuss this affair is over."

Alfred huffed, slowly opening his eyes to look up to Ivan's goddamn smiling face. 

"...They won't be back until _tomorrow_ though, so-"

"So I should let you stay another night, drag your heels at leaving again, and then bring you home to more potential witnesses waiting around?"

_Oh._ Alfred hadn't thought of it that way. 

"Fine, I'm getting up." Alfred huffed, pulling away from Ivan. Well, mostly. He couldn't be blamed for wanting another kiss or two or three...

 

It wasn't until early evening that Ivan finally managed to get Alfred out of his house and back to the boy's own home, this time making sure he stayed there. 

His home felt so much colder without Alfred in it now, so much more empty. The cat had scampered off to parts unknown as well, Ivan hadn't seen him since the day before. He scanned the living room, just to make sure it wasn't hanging around, and promptly cursed when he looked at the coffee table.

Alfred's precious book. He'd forgotten to take it with him - or left it on purpose so Ivan would have to see him again to return it. 

Ivan was left to ponder how cunning Alfred was and whether the second was even a possibility when a knock at the door jarred him out of his thoughts. Without setting the book back down, he went to open it. His neighbor Monika was outside, holding a half-carton of eggs. She held the carton out to him.

"Payback for the ones we borrowed before, I am sorry it took so long." Monika said apologetically. Ivan smiled and took the eggs with the hand not holding the book. 

"It's no worries, I bake quite a bit so I keep many on-hand." he said. He had completely forgotten that Alice had come to his door the day before Alfred started staying with him in tears begging Ivan if he had half a dozen eggs she could borrow because it was her and Monika's anniversary that night and she wanted to make pasta from scratch but had forgotten to buy them when she went shopping. It had been a long tearful story taking thirty minutes and having something to do with the dogs as well (Ivan couldn't remember all the inane details and Alice rambled) before Ivan had just shoved the half-carton he had left at her in hopes of making her go away. She brought over an extra serving of the leftover pasta later in thanks and promised to get extra eggs next time the two went grocery shopping so she could return what she borrowed. Then Alfred came to visit and everything else seemed to fall to the wayside. "Thank you." 

Monika nodded and was about to turn and head back to her house when she noticed Ivan's book. 

" _Die Unendliche Geschichte_?" She asked, pointing at it a moment later when she realized she had said the German title. Ivan looked down at the book and remembered Alfred saying something in his babble about it originally being German and nodded, assuming she had said its original name.

"Ah, yes. A friend lent it to me to read." Ivan said with a smile.

"It is a good book." Monika said somewhat stiffly. She was as unused to smalltalk as Ivan was, himself. Already they'd had a longer conversation than the two of them ever had before and he had lived next to her his whole time in that town. 

"I enjoyed it. Have you seen the film?" Ivan asked curiously. Alfred seemed to have an overwhelming hatred for it, but the boy had the most nonsensical intense feelings sometimes. Monika made a face at the mention of 'film', however. 

"The less said about that the better." she said simply. 

"That bad?"

"Perhaps on its own it is not bad." Monika conceded, "But they do not faithfully adhere to the book, especially regarding Bastian's relationship with his family." 

Ivan raised an eyebrow. He had finished the book but aside from it being a story about stories had yet to find something that stuck out to him to hold Alfred's dedication so. "How do you mean?" he asked lightly. 

"In the film, Bastian is clearly still focused on his mother's death and names the Childlike Empress after her. Perhaps understandable given Bastian's age, but... the book has him give her an entirely different name - Bastian shows great maturity and is _saddened_ by the loss of is mother, but he has accepted her passing. His problem is his father."

"His _father._ " Ivan repeated. Oh, he had paid too little attention to that. Suddenly it was starting to make sense.

"Yes. His father has not accepted his mother's death and has drawn away from his life and from Bastian, depriving him of _both_ parents. Bastien's mother is gone, and while he misses her, there is nothing that can be done about that and he has learned to cope. It is learning to reconnect with his father that is important for Bastian." 

The loss of a mother leading to the father being present but distant as well. What was the phrase? _Bingo._

 

Matthew's flight came in early in the morning the next day while Kiku's wasn't until the late afternoon. Alfred knew his best friend had finished all of his homework over the break already so he didn't feel bad at all calling him up the instant his flight was supposed to be in and making plans to hang out with the few remaining hours of freedom before school started again. Alfred and Kiku sat in front of the convenience store with slurpees as Alfred cheerfully told Kiku every last detail of his days with Ivan - including far more than Kiku _ever_ wanted to know about him (he would _never_ be able to _not_ stare at Ivan's crotch ever again). 

When Alfred got back home Matthew had woken back up from his nap and seemed mostly recovered from his jet-lag, because he seemed more than happy to be chatting away with Max as the two sat on the couch and traded stories of antics over break - well, Max was mostly doing the telling, Matthew was mostly doing the listening. 

Alfred tensed up when he saw Max - not just for his usual reasons. Max might have seen him and Ivan. He had to find a way to ask while being... subtle.

"See anything interesting over the vacation, Maxine?" Alfred asked during a pause of conversation as he went to the kitchen to fetch a soda.

"I was going to ask if you meant you and your boyfriend making out-" Max called back, and Alfred _froze_ in his tracks, he could feel his blood running colder, _oh shit he knew_ \- "But then I remembered that he was in California over vacation so I guess you couldn't be asking about that."

_In Cali-_

It took Alfred's brain a few seconds to overcome the lockup of FEAR to process that, realizing then that Max _hadn't seen shit_ , he was just making another dig at Alfred and Kiku's friendship like a jealous douchebag.

"FUCK YOU, CLOSET CASE." Alfred yelled.

"NOT EVEN IF YOU PAID ME, MARY!" Max yelled back. 

" _MAX. FRED._ " Matthew yelled, raising his voice for once to be heard over the two of them. "I'll kick you _BOTH_ out! Max, that was uncalled for." 

Max crossed his arms, stubbornly silent for several minutes before he said - pointedly _to Matthew_ \- "I'm sorry."

Alfred didn't bother pointing out that he was the one Max had made the comment to, he didn't want an apology from that asshole anyway. "Have fun in Quebec?" he asked Matthew instead as he came out, pausing by the stairway to talk and taking his turn to pointedly ignore the third person in the household. 

"I left grandpa and grandma's present for you in your room. Quebec was... Quebec." Matthew said with a sigh and a smile. "You don't miss anything." 

Usually when Matthew told him that, Alfred figured that Matt was trying to make him feel better about being excluded (not that he was excluded because he didn't want to go in the first place). This time though... there was something about the tired way Matthew said the words, the strain around his smile - the little things he'd never noticed before. Matthew wasn't trying to make him feel better, he genuinely meant that.


	18. "I saved Vanya's life. And he has never forgiven me for it."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred comes close to a breakthrough with himself, and makes good on his promise to meet up with Ivan's little sister.

While Alfred was dealing with his best friend and his brother, Ivan had other worries. He finally had time away from Alfred and Alfred's overwhelming influence and Ivan was starting to realize just how big of a mistake he had made. 

He ran over each situation in his head a hundred times, Of everything he should have said, where he should have stood firm instead of giving in to temptation. He wished desperately for someone to talk to, but there was no one. His elder sister took a quick liking to Alfred, she would only encourage. His younger sister... right out, not even worth consideration. Yao he would not give the satisfaction to even if he had the man's number. He was fairly certain his therapist would be law-bound to report him even with the oaths doctors had to take. His neighbors, no, he did not know them well enough. The only other people he knew were co-workers, and the stupidity of that very idea went without saying. 

Ivan skipped his medication intentionally that day and for the first time in over a year he hit the bottle instead. Somewhere between buzzed and tipsy he pulled up Toris' number. Ivan was fairly certain it hadn't changed. Then again, he was also fairly certain Toris blocked _his_ number. It was for the best, really.

Somewhere between tipsy and blacked out Ivan realized that the only person he could talk to his relationship with Alfred about was ... Alfred.

When Ivan woke up again it was with a terrible hangover and the realization that he actually had to be at work in two hours. He remembered why he gave up drinking.

 

"He's _beautiful_."

It was the first day of the new year in school and Alfred couldn't tear his eyes away from Ivan in the window as Alfred sat in the lunch room with Kiku. The weather had fallen back to its standard constant drizzling downpour that it had for every day out of the year aside from a week of heatwave in the summer and the week of snowstorm in the winter. Drizzle wasn't as bad as rainstorm so kids were expected to just deal with it and that's what showers were for anyway.

"God, look at the way the shirt is clinging to his chest out there." Alfred was giving a running commentary on Mister Braginski, and while Kiku had expected it to get more graphic he realized belatedly that you can't fall off the floor. 

"Mmm." Kiku agreed, tapping away at his phone in the meantime. He had a small information folder on the Phys Ed teacher at this point, bits of facts that Alfred carelessly spouted, organized neatly into spreadsheets and files in a way that Alfred would never consider arranging things. The medication and what it could be used to treat, everything he displayed possible symptoms for to narrow it down. 

He loved Alfred Kirkland, and had a kill switch set to destroy anything that could hurt him, and that's all there was to it. 

 

Alfred got through most of the day with his energy barely in-check. He practically vibrated with it through every class, every passing period. He didn't have Phys Ed that day which was a fucking godsend because he needed to touch Ivan so much he probably wouldn't have been able to help himself. He ducked out of after-school hangouts by claiming detention for trying to hit Max before break. No one questioned, and Max of course seemed pleased as fuck when he overheard. Ivan was his favorite teacher, and Alfred grinned thinking how he'd shit himself if he knew what Alfred was doing with the teacher. 

Ivan had stuff to deal with after classes, standard teacher BS Alfred figured, so Alfred was able to sneak his way through the locker room and to Ivan's office pretty easily. It was so taboo, doing this at school. It excited him all the more. Ivan wasn't around so Alfred dropped his bag by the door and hopped up onto Ivan's desk. He thought about doing it with Ivan at least a hundred times on the desk, he was tempted to start beating off then and there but if he did, what if someone other than Ivan came in? That'd be fucking awkward. So he just kicked his feet and waited.

But he still _wanted._

He wanted Ivan to press him back against the desk, to stand between his legs and laugh about how much Alfred wanted it. He wanted Ivan to call him 'little Satyr' again and to slap his ass to get him to move. Maybe on his hands and knees, bent over the desk so that his ass was tilted up and exposed, jeans around his knees or maybe his ankles at that point. Either way, legs spread as wide as he could so that Ivan could work his fingers between Alfred's legs, spreading the cheeks of his ass and murmuring things to him in Russian that he couldn't understand but knew had to be good. A couple more slaps, enough to get Alfred's cheeks burning a nice rosy red, then Ivan would knead them with his calloused hands and it'd sting in all the best ways - all Alfred would be able to do would be to arch his back into it and moan. 

_Too big,_ Ivan was _too fucking big_ and Alfred got so hard at the thought of being spread wide open for him, for Ivan to be spreading him with his thumbs, just _looking_ at him while Alfred squirmed under his gaze and begged to be filled. 

"Alfred?"

Alfred was broken from his fantasy by Ivan's very real voice, the teacher standing surprised at the doorway to his office. Alfred knew he had to be at least a little hard - _visibly_ hard by the way Ivan's eyes trailed down to his lap and quickly averted. He was actually blushing. He was frowning, too, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Alfred blurted out the only thing he could think of.

"You aren't breaking up with me."

Ivan almost dropped the folders he was holding, staring at Alfred with such wide eyes - pupils dilated, surprise and a bit of fear and why was he suddenly noticing these things when they never seemed relevant before? - and for the first time Alfred realized how much control he had in this situation, in this relationship. Every time Ivan had said 'no' and Alfred had said 'yes', Alfred had gotten his way. For some reason Ivan kept listening to him. Why did he keep listening to him? Alfred knew he was a hot piece of ass but there had to be something more than that. Ivan was exceptionally attractive, too - if it was NSA sex he wanted he'd be able to get it anywhere, there were no less than eighteen gay bars in the city, Alfred had checked once out of curiosity when he was debating on getting his fake ID though one of them was a lesbian bar but the point still remained that if you were willing to leave town and head into the city proper it wasn't that hard to find a willing partner of the same sex depending on your standards, though he didn't know if Ivan was exclusively gay - Alfred knew bisexuality existed because even after he got an interest in Ivan he still liked breasts - really dick and breasts were the two best things in existence, and suddenly Alfred realized he'd never considered transsexuals before. A moment after that he was incredibly preoccupied with the thought of that only to realize that such thoughts were exploitative and being a good decent and tolerant twenty-first century boy they were inappropriate for that reason. It wasn't fair to people who had real life problems dealing with discrimination, and that was about the time he realized how derailed his thoughts had gotten in that scant few seconds.

The horny teenager, legs spread on his teacher's desk and not even certain what the difference was between being in love and being in love with the idea of being in love, and _he_ was in control. Of everything. 

The thought terrified him to the very core. He couldn't even keep a cactus alive.

"Please." Alfred added quietly, as if that made a difference.

"Alfred," Ivan said 'Alfred' the same way he said 'mister Kirkland', the same way Matt said 'Fred' the same way people said 'no' to a child, tiredly, for the fifth time. Alfred's brow creased.

"You aren't." he insisted again. Ivan tensed up and looked at Alfred with such _longing_. Ivan was an adult, he knew what he wanted. Alfred was just a dumb teenager who had a taste of something good and wanted to try it out for longer. Why wasn't Ivan telling him what to do? Or, well, holding his ground better? 

"We can't do this on campus." Ivan settled with, finally. He closed the door behind him. Alfred could hear the click of the lock sliding into place. 

"Then we won't. Next time. Please." 

Ivan placed the folders in his hand on top of the small filing cabinet and made his way over to Alfred.

"There shouldn't be a next time." Ivan said quietly, hands going to steady at Alfred's waist, lips brushing against Alfred's just barely - a hint of breath and brush of pressure and nothing more. "There shouldn't be a this time."

"You're breathing pretty hard." Alfred said, tugging at the collar of Ivan's shirt. "I feel like I just woke up from a long sleep. Like, I'm noticing shit I didn't notice before."

"You are an intelligent young man, Alfred, you just choose to not exercise that intelligence in certain areas." Ivan said casually, leaning in to bite gently at Alfred's ear. It was distracting, but Alfred felt like he was on to something. Something at the edge of his consciousness wanting to be examined and yet also begging to be ignored. He usually ignored things that gave off that vibe, but it had something to do with Ivan... 

Alfred slid his hands down Ivan's arms. He loved Ivan's arms. Down and down to his elbows and wrists and Ivan's pulse was _racing_ , did he just run a marathon or something?

"Can we-" Alfred began, distracting _himself_ from whatever thought had threatened to make itself clear. He didn't want to know. If he didn't know things then he wasn't responsible for them. Ignorance was no excuse but possession was nine tenths of the law and if he wasn't in possession of the knowledge then he had nothing to worry about. He was just a dumb kid having fun. 

"Not on the desk, not on campus." Ivan said before Alfred could finish the question. "You have no idea how dangerous this is. _I_ have no idea how dangerous this is when you're around."

"Do you ever think about stardust?" Alfred asked suddenly, fingers still on Ivan's pulse.

Ivan stared at him with surprise again, then leaned in for another kiss. Alfred forgot all about what he was getting at before, and quickly got Ivan to forget his quickly placed rules regarding campus _and_ the desk.

 

It was so hard. Stolen kisses after classes - Alfred got Ivan's phone number so he could text him and he did text - nonstop flirtations at all hours of the night. Sometimes he misfired a text to Kiku that was meant for Ivan, or a text to Ivan meant for Kiku because they were at the top of his contacts list, but he knew enough to never type out Ivan's name or an indicator of who the recipient was and Kiku already knew about their relationship anyway. Ivan merely replied with tired amusement at Alfred's realizations about foreshadowing in the original series that was covered again in The Next Generation. Ivan typed slowly, and Alfred wondered if he texted anyone ever before. 

 

Alfred didn't stop beating off thinking about Ivan just because he'd actually had a chance with him. All that changed was that when Alfred groaned into his pillow to try and muffle the noise (two swift bangs on their shared wall meant Matthew had five minutes to get earplugs in or find an elsewhere to be) and brought himself to completion, it came with the added text to his teacher `**'cant stop thinking about you inside of me tell me something sexy'**`

He was edging on orgasm when he got the reply `**'You are missing vital punctuation.**`

` **'typing one handed using the other to pretend youre here with me'** `

 

"So he likes to fuck my thighs." Alfred said, casually, in the middle of the drug store as he wandered the bath product and skincare aisle with Kiku after school. 

"Ah?" Kiku asked, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention. They weren't. A couple bored employees counting down the minutes until the end of their shift, and Kiku and Alfred didn't look like shoplifters enough to warrant any attention.

"Yeah. Well, we've only done it once but he seemed to like it and I kinda liked it too. I mean, I want him inside of me but I guess this'll work until I get stretched enough for it. I'm serious though, dude, it's like an elephant, it's a third leg." Alfred babbled, picking up various lotions and flipping them over to read the backs of the labels and compare active ingredients. 

"I could have really done without that knowledge." Kiku sighed, shaking his head. "Though you've always been a little obsessed with size." 

"Have not." Alfred insisted. Kiku let the subject matter drop - he had read enough of Alfred's drunk texts to know better. When Kiku didn't protest, Alfred moved on. "So, anyway, there's this expensive bath shit place in one of the shopping centers in downtown and I think I'm gonna try to hit it up over the weekend, you know? Get something for that, I think it'd start to chafe if we do it too much and that wouldn't be sexy. Lotion would help that, right?"

"I can honestly say I have never considered that."

"So I'm right, exactly." Alfred nodded. He twisted the cap off of one of the lotions and smelled it. "I just want him to make passionate love to me the way Captain America does with Lady Liberty."

"Steve Rogers is a virgin in many incarnations."

"Figurative love. Metaphorical love. Though I want mine to be physical. Don't argue with me."

 

Ivan spent the whole week in terror of being discovered. Any minute, surely, he would be called into the office of the Principal and Mister Kirkland (senior) would be there along with his therapist, a witness or two, and the head of the school district and possibly a few police officers. Denying it would do no good, perhaps he could get a reduced sentence for compliance --

But that time never came. 

Alfred was obvious - so obvious. He'd stare at Ivan every chance he got. He'd trail behind after class and barely wait for the locker room to be empty before stealing a kiss or two. And his smiles - oh, his _smiles_ , just for Ivan. In broad daylight, in public.

No repercussions. No accusations. Life went on with the same day to day monotony as it had months ago. 

So Ivan stopped listening to what _Alfred_ was saying and started listening to what others were saying _about_ him, which made things clear as to why their affair was going undiscovered despite Alfred's lack of tact. 

Many of the other students in the same Phys Ed class that Alfred took were on the sports teams. Ivan had taken to paying attention to Alfred the most during these classes, but he began to shift that attention - listening in to how others spoke about Alfred when he was not there. 

They were all cheerful and friendly when he was around, smiling and joking and generally being teenagers, but when he walked away...

"... God, he's such a selfish douchebag." one of the other boys muttered after Alfred had left while he put away equipment with another. 

"Fuck, I know, right? Football isn't happening this season, why the hell does anyone still put up with him?"

"Baseball and track team - he's the best player on those, too. No fuckin' way we'll make it to state without him." 

"Why couldn't we have someone talented that doesn't have such a big mouth?"

A snicker.

"Well, way I hear it, get a few beers in him and you won't mind his 'big mouth'..."

Ivan moved on, not wanting to hear the rest of that. 

 

By Saturday Alfred was starting to think he was understanding Kiku's question - the one the Japanese-American boy had proposed to him weeks ago, 'do you love him, or are you just in love with the idea of love?'... It was starting to take shape anyway. Like a digital painting, a large formless swath of color that was slowly getting detailed with shadows and highlights and erasing the silhouette. 

 

` **'I want to see you. Tonight?'**` Alfred texted Ivan as he laid on his bed, listless as the sound of light rain cascaded down outside his window. 

`**'Not tonight. Tomorrow?'**` came a reply after about thirty minutes. Alfred wondered if Ivan was being difficult in order to maintain some sense of control in the relationship. 

`**'I have an errand to run in the city for Matt. I can get off the bus by your place.'**` Alfred texted, spelling out the words and hitting 'send' before he could think too deeply on them, firing off another text an instant later. `**'Let me spend the night.'**`

` **'You can come over, but you will not be staying the night.'**` Ivan replied, again, after about thirty minutes. Alfred smiled and reminded himself to pack his toothbrush with the bag he was taking with him to meet Ivan's sister. 

 

Sunday was rainy too - just a light sprinkling that made an umbrella entirely not worth it, though Alfred would have risked a potential flu again just for Ivan to take care of him. The bus took a bit longer than twenty minutes to get to the city from its stop in front of the convenience store - it took a few side-streets to pick up people in smaller communities along the way before heading directly into downtown.

Alfred had Google Mapped how to get to Natalia's dance studio. She had to be doing well for herself, at least, because it was in downtown proper, the historic district that was mostly populated with art studios now, a few hold-out shops, bars, and after a certain point in the night crack dealers since half the shops were empty with the failing economy and the cops could only patrol one of the two major drug areas at the time and they'd opted for the other one. They apparently had superheroes to take care of it, though. Guys that dressed up in masks and costumes and kept the streets safe from that kind of thing, like in real life! Alfred wanted to do that. Kiku said 'no'. 

Everything was bathed in washed out grays, the metal signs glinting with the rain. Natalia's studio was on the second floor of a building, over a kosher bakery that had ramped itself up to be hipster and trendy enough to keep its head above water during the economic downturn. There were no large signs or anything like that, just a glass door to the side of the bakery entrance reading "Private Ballet Instruction" listing a few hours of the week someone could drop in for consultation and scheduling, along with a phone number to call at all other times. Alfred pulled out the card and examined it - same address, same phone number. Sunday wasn't listed as a drop-in time, so he tested the door - it was unlocked. 

Pushing his nervousness to the back of his mind, Alfred went in. The bell on the door chimed so cheerfully, Alfred wanted to punch it for not understanding the volume of the situation. Once the door had fallen shut behind him and blocked out the sounds of the street and the rain, he could hear music playing from up the staircase. It sounded familiar, but Alfred couldn't place it. He shook his coat out and stomped his boots on the welcome mat then made his way up the stairs. Halfway up there was a bend, and after turning it Alfred could hear the music more clearly - 

" _His Infernal Majesty_?" He wondered aloud, taking the narrow stairs two at a time after that. 

The narrow staircase opened into one wide loft room, filled with giant windows that let the dim light in, the rain casting faint shadowy patterns across the hardwood floor and the mirror along the opposing wall. There was little in the room - a horizontal bar attached to the mirror, a coat rack next to the staircase, and shoved against the back wall as if in afterthought a filing cabinet and small desk holding a radio that was playing the music. There were only two other doors he could see, considering how much space was dedicated to sheer _space_ Alfred figured one was bathroom, the other was a closet or something like that. 

Natalia was against the bar, one leg raised to it while she went through her stretches. She was wearing a simple leotard, making it the first time Alfred had actually seen her in clothing that wasn't exceptionally poofy and form-hiding. 

Where her sister was curvy in all the right ways, Natalia was thin as a rail - every bit the delicate snowflake stereotype of ballerinas, especially the way her hair was tied back in a ribbon. Not for the first time Alfred had to remind himself she was probably at least in her late twenties, even though she could probably waltz into a Junior High school and be asked by a teacher if she was a new student. The only tell-tale sign of her age was that she no longer had any awkwardness of youth that hung around, though such things were usually beyond Alfred's notice. 

"Uh," Alfred suddenly realized he wasn't sure where to begin. 

"One generally says 'hello' when they enter a place of business." Natalia said, terse. "Hang up your coat and take your shoes of, if you drip over the floor you are cleaning it." 

Yeah, Katyusha _looked_ related to Ivan, you could tell she was his sister at a glance. Natalia might have been the proverbial runt of the litter, but once she opened her mouth her relationship to Ivan became quite clear. Alfred considered arguing for the sake of arguing but that seemed counter-productive. He still considered arguing for a few moments longer before he hung his coat up and toed off his sneakers. 

"Hi," Alfred said, clearing his throat. "Nice place you got here. Um, roomy. Looks good for that... dancing thing."

"'That dancing thing', an uncultured idiot like yourself knows nothing of the art of ballet. You clearly don't deserve my brother, this conversation is over." Natalia huffed, turning away from Alfred and continuing her stretches as if he wasn't even in the room. Which was entirely unfair, how could he blow it in one line? 

"Wait! wait, I mean, sure I don't know about ballet, but in America it's kinda seen as a girl thing, so, I like totally never had a chance to learn but I really want to learn - Ivan did it, right? Tell me about him." Alfred pleaded, making his way over to Natalia but keeping out of direct arm's reach of her. He was careful to not drip on the hardwood. 

"Vanya did not just ' _do_ ' ballet." Natalia said quietly, her voice losing some of the aggressiveness that it held before. "He _lived_ it. He was the _best_ there was and better than there will ever be again."

She dropped her leg from the bar then, stretching her arms high above her as she went through some basic positions that Alfred only knew from when he went on a girl's anime binge with Kiku a few summers ago and they both got way too much into Princess Tutu considering they were teenage boys and were legitimately getting emotionally invested into the series and both cried at the end. Well, Alfred cried, Kiku didn't cry in public at all ever, he had strong feelings regarding loud displays of emotion, but he patted Alfred's back and agreed that he was crying on the inside. 

"Well, what's stopping him from still doing it?" Alfred leaned against the bar like he would at a bus stop that had back bars for leaning instead of benches for sitting. "Sure he limps _sometimes_ but I didn't even notice he had it until my buddy pointed it out to me."

"The fluidity of the movement is entirely thrown off." Natalia said harshly, fixing Alfred with a sharp glare. "You do not understand the pride of a master. He didn't understand either, you are not making a good impression." 

Alfred gritted his teeth, charm and flattery didn't seem to work with this one. Fine, right to the point. "What happened to Ivan? What's this - this thing that neither of you ever talk about but both of you can't ever get around?"

Natalia froze, for just a moment. Long enough that Alfred knew his words struck home. 

"I saved Vanya's life." Natalia replied, her voice flat, lacking of all emotion. She turned her eyes to the window rather than looking at Alfred's expectant face. "And he has never forgiven me for it. But he should have been blaming Yao. It was _his_ fault -" It took Alfred a moment to realize that Natalia was actually trembling - with barely suppressed rage. "Vanya was so innocent back then, he was beautiful, _perfect_ , he had his whole life in front of him and that - that _блядовать_ took it all away from him with his selfish desires!"

Alfred held his breath, not wanting to break the spell of whatever mood had overtaken Natalia to get her to be so open, even if it was just to yell.

" _That dirty tramp!_ He - Vanya would have given up _everything_ for him! That's how much Vanya loved him, and when fate took everything from him Yao just threw it back in his face and threw him away! He was just using Vanya from the beginning! Katyusha and I are all he has left - so you understand, don't you? Why I can't let _any_ harm come to him. I won't let someone hurt my brother like that again, not _ever._ "

There was so much venom and desperation in Natalia's voice, Alfred was actually taken aback by her dedication. He honestly wasn't sure he could say that he would be so protective of his own brother. Sure Alfred hated Max and thought he was a bad influence on Matthew, but... all Alfred did was talk shit about him. 

Then again, maybe Alfred had been interrogating that from the wrong perspective. He was never close with Matt, even though they were brothers.

If anyone had hurt Kiku the way it sounded like this 'Yao' had hurt Ivan, Alfred was pretty sure that a broken arm would be the least of their worries when Alfred was through with them. He wouldn't even hesitate. 

He felt cold inside that had nothing to do with the rain, and after a long and terrible moment Alfred found that yes, he could understand.

His head was filled with a million questions. He wanted suddenly to know more about Natalia. For Ivan's sake, yes, but also to just get to know _her._

"How can I prove to you that I won't hurt Ivan?" Alfred asked, not even trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"You can't." Natalia answered, moving away from Alfred to the small desk in the corner. She turned down the music and fetched a water bottle from one of the drawers, taking a long drink from it before continuing. "Even if you don't _INTEND_ to hurt him, you can't promise that you _won't._ "

"Let me try. I'll do anything. Teach me ballet." The last words came spilling out of Alfred's mouth so quickly that Alfred wasn't even certain that he had said them aloud until Natalia stared at him with wide eyes. 

"You could not afford my rates." Natalia said, voice flat, when she recovered from the initial surprise of Alfred's request. "I have only five students currently, four of which are expected to go on to perform internationally. This is not some recreational activity for children, this is _art._ "

"I'll make you a webpage." Alfred offered. Natalia raised one pale eyebrow but did not interrupt, so he just kept talking. "I tried Googling you, but it looks like you don't have an official page or anything - if you had one you might be able to get more students - more business. I'll pay for hosting and everything so if it doesn't work out you won't be out any money at all, and if you spend more time with me and decide I really am bad for Ivan you'll have proof to convince him, so he won't be able to dismiss you as just being biased." 

Natalia was silent for a while longer, fixing Alfred with the same expressionless and silently judging stare that Ivan was so good at. Alfred held his breath again, half certain that she would say no just to be stubborn, like he did.

"We will run over some basic forms first," Natalia said finally, turning the music back up. "So I can see where you stand." 

 

The next hour was spent with Natalia barking out orders for Alfred to follow, and yelling "AGAIN!" so many times that the word started to lose all meaning to Alfred. He was an athlete, so he knew he had to have a certain amount of flexibility and coordination, but when he finished with the unexpected physical examination Natalia did not look impressed. As a matter of fact, Natalia's anger had seemed to shift to annoyance with a shade of disgust.

"Alfred... what is your family name?" She asked. 

"Williams." Alfred lied, giving his mother's maiden name instead. 'Alfred Kirkland' was all over facebook and easy to find out as being underage. 

"Alfred Williams, you have - and I do not exaggerate - the least natural ability for ballet that I have ever had the misfortune and _embarrassment_ of seeing in my whole life." Natalia all but yelled "My student who lost her leg in an accident and is learning how to use her prosthetic one for dance has better skill than you. You insult the art by merely being in the studio. You will never be any good at this, the best you could hope for is decent, perhaps, if you try your hardest. Give up."

Alfred beamed.

"GREAT! So, Sundays, same time, same place?"

 

It was a two birds with one stone thing, really. Natalia was far more willing to talk about herself and her family than Ivan was, and this way Alfred could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn't some slacker who got by on natural talent alone. He was going to bomb ballet by sincerely trying his best at it. That would surely show Ivan. 

Somehow Kiku seemed to think that Alfred had suffered a head injury after Alfred explained that to him while he was checking out the expensive bath product store in the mall that wasn't too far from Natalia's studio. Whatever, though. It would work out great. 

 

Alfred found his way to Ivan's fairly easily from the bus stop. The trees overhung heavy with the water from the rain though it was only a light drizzle. The curtains in the house were drawn but the lights were on. Alfred tried not to fidget in place and knocked briskly. He heard the footsteps approaching, then the door opening.

Ivan was wearing a sweater again, a sweater and slacks that looked so comfortable and Alfred just wanted to run his hands along them, to pull him close and drown in his scent. Alfred tossed his bag just inside the door and stepped in without waiting for an invite, closing it behind him. 

"Hey, you." Alfred smiled, and no matter how stern Ivan was trying to look when he saw Alfred, he couldn't help but smile back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always a little surprised when I get a comment from someone who is clearly a new reader and not someone from the kink meme. We're quickly catching up to where new material will start - well, there's still a couple chapters of repost first. Anyway, thank you to everyone for reading. Old readers, thanks for sticking with me, new readers, thank you for joining us, I hope you aren't disappointed.


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